


The Alpha and the Pack

by penumbria



Series: The Alpha and the Pack [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Alpha Peter Hale, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Canon-Typical Violence, Character Bashing, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, Gen, Laura Hale Lives, Mentioned Kate Argent, No Beta, No Malia Tate, Oblivious Scott, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Peter Hale is Jackson Whittemore's Parent, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) Bashing, Scott McCall is an Unreliable Narrator, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Sheriff Stilinski, laura hale bashing, occasional unreliable narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 40,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27016072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penumbria/pseuds/penumbria
Summary: It has been five and a half years since Peter Hale woke up as an Alpha with a pack of pre-teen, newly bitten wolves, a spark, and a banshee. Derek Hale hears rumors of a Hale Alpha in Beacon Hills. Stiles struggles with his powers and their origin. Scott is falling for the daughter of an infamous hunter family.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Peter Hale, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale & The Pack, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & The Pack
Series: The Alpha and the Pack [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1285508
Comments: 24
Kudos: 263
Collections: Rough Trade Collection





	1. Episode One: New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This will be written in episode format, planned for 3 - 10K episodes with 3 plotlines focusing on 3 characters, one plot for each (Derek, Stiles, Scott) that interweave one another to form the season.
> 
> I wrote this for the April 2019 RT challenge.

**Episode One: New Beginnings**

**Section One: Beacon Hills What?**

Derek Hale, though only one person in his life knew that was his real name, sat in a small cafe, eating a couple of breakfast sandwiches, and drinking a large coffee before he had to head off to work. 

Derek and his sister and Alpha, Laura, now called Lily by everyone but Derek, had moved to New York when they lost their entire family in a suspicious fire six years before. Derek had been only fifteen at the time and Laura had been nineteen. Derek had never made it to the site of the fire, Laura had found him wandering dazedly towards the house, in shock from the loss of pack bonds and what Laura called echoes of them resonating in his chest. Laura said the fire was set by hunters. She didn’t know who but the smell of wolfsbane had been saturating the area around the burning house and she had seen remnants of a mountain ash circle that had been disturbed, too late, by first responders to the fire. She told him everyone was dead. No one had survived. The bonds he was feeling weren’t real, they were echoes due to the large severing at once of the pack bonds. 

She had pushed him into her car and driven out of town and east before the clock even hit midnight. She insisted that they change their names, found someone to get them good fake IDs, and eventually, through one of the contacts she made in New York where they settled, for their new identities into the actual system as legitimate.

Derek got his GED a year after they arrived in New York and took some classes at community college while working construction sites to make money. 

Derek had completed his associate's degree the spring before. He was thinking about getting a bachelor’s degree but wasn’t sure what to major in yet or where to go, so he was continuing his construction job until he decided. It was good money and Derek was good at it due to his werewolf strengths. 

He was due at his latest site in just over an hour and it was less than a five-minute walk away from the cafe. The television was on the local news and the national morning show was about to begin. Derek usually only paid a small part of his attention to it but the opening story changed his habit. He stared at the small television as the anchor showed a picture of a blond woman on the screen.

“Authorities around the world are hunting for this woman, Katherine Argent. A lengthy investigation has determined that she is a serial killer spanning multiple states and even countries. Her normal mode of operation consisted of befriending or seducing a member of an isolated, large family in smaller cities or towns. She would use this relationship to gain inside knowledge of the family and after a few months would hire local arsonists and trap the family inside their house and burn it down. The accelerant which she used was hot enough to even burn stone.”

The female anchor took up the report. “Yes, it was discovered by local authorities in a small California town after a fire that killed a family of fifteen. Argent was using the alias Katrina Prata and working as a substitute teacher at the local high school. The sheriff reached out to the FBI and they found seven fires in the United States and when they identified the suspect, they followed her trail to Canada where she killed two families, and Europe where there were another two families killed in the exact same manner, according to Interpol.”

The male anchor took up the thread. “If you see Kate Argent, contact your local FBI office or the national number at 202-324-3000. Authorities stress that you shouldn’t approach this woman. She is unstable and violent, almost certainly heavily armed. Her family owns and operates a well-known arms dealership that sells to police departments and armed federal agencies around the world.”

The female anchor continues, “At this time, the rest of the Argents in Argents Arms are not suspected to be involved but investigations are ongoing. A press conference is scheduled for later this afternoon.”

The male anchor smiled at the camera. “A truly horrible story. We’ll be back after this weather report.”

Derek blinked and tried to control his breathing. That was Katrina! They said Katrina was a hunter. He could read between the lines of the mundane world versus the supernatural. The Argents were where the legend of silver hurting werewolves came from and if Katrina actually  _ was _ Kate  _ Argent _ , then she was a hunter and she was the one who had killed his pack. 

Derek had felt like an asshole all these years, just disappearing on her, not letting her know he had left town. He hated himself for making her think he was in the house when the fire happened. But, she  _ set _ the fire. She must have known he wasn’t home. She knew his schedule. She knew how he snuck out of the house, through the tunnels. He told her about them. He  _ told _ her. He was one of the ones the news was talking about - an idiot from the family seduced by a killer.

Derek’s mind circled round and round, jumping from topic to topic until his phone alarm chirped at him and he realized he had ten minutes to get to work. He scarfed down the cold remains of his breakfast sandwich, tossed his trash in the can, and hurried out the door, thankful that the cups the cafe uses are very well insulated and his coffee isn’t as cold as his breakfast was.

——

After work, Derek took the train across the bridge to Hoboken, New Jersey. The New York metropolitan area had been a difficult adjustment for a wolf who spent his entire life until almost sixteen in a family pack that covered a huge territory that was mainly wilderness. The nearest pack he had known about was over fifty miles away. 

New York is different. Each of the boroughs, barring Manhattan, was controlled by a pack. Any lone wolves, which is what he and Laura were considered even though she was an Alpha, had to live in Manhattan or at least ten miles outside the city limits. Hoboken, New Jersey was not eligible to live in but it was home to several supernatural “social clubs”. Some were nightclubs, some were more like gyms, and two were more like town halls. They were all neutral territory and operated by the Shifter Council and the Supernatural Conclave. 

The most popular non-nightclub venue was Drake’s. It had a restaurant which was only open to club “members” rather than the general public, a bar area with enhanced liquors, several conference rooms, and a gathering room with televisions, radios, and game tables for cards, dice, and other recreations that wouldn’t destroy a room.

Derek walked into the gathering room an hour after getting off of work. Unsurprisingly, the main television was tuned to a cable news network where mundane talking heads were discussing Kate Argent and her crimes. The volume was relatively low and over a dozen supernaturals were having low-voiced discussions around the room as they watched.

Derek joined one with two werewolves he knew from the Bronx pack. As he walked up, the younger of the two wolves, still a decade older than Derek, was asking his companion about the beginning of the case.

“How did they get on to her? Hunters cover their tracks, one way or another. Even the Shifter Council and the Supernatural Conclave have a hard time getting evidence on hunters that break their precious code to take to the Hunters Council so we don’t get blamed for taking out the trash and protecting ourselves and our packs.”

The older wolf nodded. “I know. And from what I hear from the Conclave, she  _ did _ cover her tracks in the regular way. She bribed, threatened, and blackmailed mundanes to make it seem like an accident. But, someone talked to someone. They said that the Hale Alpha had an in with the local sheriff. And when the sheriff, who evidently hadn’t been gotten to by Argent before she left town, heard about the truth, he started digging. And he had a connection to a local California FBI agent who went through their files and used their databases when he could, and found other suspicious fatal fires that were ruled as accidental much too quickly. And the mundanes took it from there, interviewing people in those towns, following the money trails, whatever. It took them six years but the Hales and others will be getting justice.”

Derek knew his chemosignals were off and his heartbeat was going crazy. He wasn’t about to reveal himself though. So, he played it off by playing to the false backstory Laura had created for them when they came to New York. He deliberately allowed his voice to shake as he spoke. “Hey, Tim, Paul. Do - do ya think these mundanes could catch other bad hunters? Like even ones that aren’t with a family like that Argent one?”

Tim, the older werewolf, smiled kindly at Derek. “Hey, Rick. I think this situation is an isolated thing. They might be able to get info and dirt on other Argents in the clan due to their prior work on this Kate bitch. But, I don’t think they would be able to track down the unaffiliated assholes who killed your parents and older brother. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and unluckily ran across those hunters. Your sister said they didn’t even desecrate the bodies like a hunter clan would. They  _ were _ hunters, obviously, they were using wolfsbane bullets, but they were clanless ones. Which makes them random murderers to the mundanes and even for mundane-on-mundane murders like that, they have a hard time finding and punishing them.”

Derek nodded, biting his lip. “Oh. Right. Fingerprints and DNA and stuff like that.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, stuff like that.”

Derek huffed out a breath. “But, maybe not the mundanes. But you said an Alpha got them on the trail. Maybe them?”

Tim sighed. “I don’t know the Hale Alpha personally. No one in my pack does. I’m not sure anyone from around here does. Most of the Hales died in that fire that Argent set. But I doubt even they could track down a trail as old as the men who killed your family. It was just so random. There wouldn’t be a trail this far out from it.”

Derek continued his low-key interrogation on Tim and Paul before wandering around the room, listening to other conversations. Everyone agreed that this all started because of the Hale Alpha and, though Derek briefly wondered if Laura had been involved, those with ties to the Conclave or the Council agreed that the Hale Alpha lived in California, not New York. 

Derek couldn’t stand the thought of someone trading on his family’s name, even if his Alpha insisted they not use it any longer. Beacon Hills had been founded by his family, in part, and now some Wolf was taking advantage of Kate’s actions, and people were praising them and making assumptions. He couldn’t let it happen. He’d talk to Laura and convince her to go home and confront the interloper. And maybe stay, now that the Argents weren’t a threat.

——

“No.”

Derek frowned. “But Laura, this Alpha is using our family's name and reputation.”

Laura scowled, “I don’t care, Rick. They can have the cursed place. It is evil. We are never going back there.”

Derek bit his lip and huffed it out into a brief pout. “Please, don’t call me that, Laura. I’ve asked before. Not when it’s just us. It isn’t my name.”

Laura shook her head. “It  _ is _ your name,  _ Rick _ . You got your degrees under that name, you work and pay taxes under that name. No one alive even knows the name you were born with, other than me and I won’t use it! I changed our names and identities for a reason! And that reason holds. Regardless of one hunter being hunted themselves for our families’ deaths. There are plenty more where she came from. So, stop calling me Laura. My name is Lily Saluda. And you are my brother and beta, Rick Saluda. And don’t think I’ve missed what the huntress bitch is accused of, how she got her information on the packs she killed. And your part in it, Rick.”

“My name is Derek Hale! Just because you want to forget our pack and home, doesn’t mean I will. Mom named me Derek, she chose it because of our ancestor who founded Beacon Hills, who had been named after a historic emperor. She hoped I would honor our family line by being named for great men. I won’t disrespect her memory by forgetting that or ignoring it to call myself something else, even within the privacy of my mind. I understood hiding until now but I can’t stand how it makes me feel to know our home is being usurped!”

Laura growled. “Fine! Go! Get yourself killed! I am  _ never _ going back there. I don’t care about Beacon Hills and you’re an idiot if you do. But then, I suppose the brain in your head isn’t very large if the one in your pants killed our pack.”

Derek blinked back tears. “I didn’t know.”

“Your dick just fell into her and she magically learned about our family from your cum?”

Derek firmed his lips. “I didn’t know she was a hunter.”

Laura scoffed. “You couldn’t smell wolfsbane on her? Gunpowder? Mountain ash? Or were you too busy smelling her cunt?”

“I - I didn’t know. I never smelled anything like that. She was just a normal girl.”

“A normal girl? She wasn’t a fucking girl, Rick! She was a hunter. A hunter who was posing as your teacher! And you never questioned why an attractive human woman in her fucking twenties would be interested in a teenage jock? You never thought it was odd for her to come on to you?”

Derek shook his head. “I never really thought about it.”

Laura frowned. “You never thought, period. A grown woman who could and evidently did get any grown man she wanted, according to the news repertoire of her coverups, would work to seduce an underage boy just because he was cute? Or because he was a star varsity basketball player? Even if she hadn’t been a hunter fucking you in more ways than the obvious, doing that could have gotten her fired if you were caught. And she would have gone to jail. And so would you. You were under the age of consent and it was  _ illegal _ for you to have sex. And a teacher would know those laws. But, hey, she wanted you, right? And she was older, hot? Nice boobs?”

Derek looked away. “I just - after - I -“

“Mom smelled the sex on you but didn’t realize you were betraying the pack by telling the hunter who seduced you with her body about our house and our family and routine. Mom told us all to leave you alone about it because you were finally happy again after your idiocy with Paige. Mom should have banished you from the pack then. When you killed your human girlfriend. Which might have been what caught the hunter’s attention and brought her to our pack rather than another in the first place.”

Derek remained silent, his eyes bright but his face dry.

“But I know you, little brother. You won’t let this go and if I try and stop you, you’ll be stupid again and end up leading them right to us. Again. So, go. Pack a bag or two, get a vacation from work, or quit, if you think you’ll be gone more than a week or so.

Take the Camaro if you are driving. Don’t contact me until you’re back.” Laura took a deep breath and ordered in her Alpha voice, “Don’t tell anyone you meet your new name. Or mine!”

**Section Two: Dream a Little Dream**

Stiles stared at his father, drunk and swaying, on the anniversary of Claudia Stilinski’s death. It was reminiscent of the entire year following the day she died until he was able to pull himself together and get sober. But not tonight.

Noah scowled at Stiles. “It's you. It's all you. You know, every day I saw her lying that hospital slowly dying - I thought, ‘How the hell am I supposed to raise this stupid kid on my own? This hyperactive little bastard who keeps ruining my life?’ It's all you. It's you, Stiles. You killed your mother. You hear me? You killed her. 

“So powerful. A Spark! A Mage! Whatever the fuck you are. You believe and wish for something and it happens. Well, you didn’t believe in her. You let her die. You wanted it. And she did. And someday, you’ll get upset with me and want me gone and I’ll die, too. You’ll kill me like you killed her!”

Stiles sputtered. “D - Dad. I - I wasn’t active yet, the Alpha Bite -“

Noah barked a harsh laugh. “Always with the excuses, you little bastard. The Bite didn’t give you the powers. You were born that way. And you wanted your mother dead. You know why!”

Stiles turned his head as his father threw his tumbler at him and as he twisted, he raised his arm over his face, blocking it. When there was no impact, he lowered his arm and looked up. He was on his back in his bed and the light was seeping through the cracked doorway. He turned his head as he saw the light glint off metal in his peripheral vision. There was a knife held high and descending. 

Stiles rolled off the bed, away from his attacker. She screamed. “You’re trying to kill me, evil thing! I’ll kill you first!”

Claudia scrambled across the bed, swinging the knife. Stiles clawed at the floor and slid his younger body under it, scooting back as his mother tried to slice him with the knife.

“Demon! Devil! I won’t let you kill me!”

Stiles felt his face wet with tears as he begged his mother to recognize him. Suddenly, the bed he was sheltering under was gone and Stiles was once again in his sixteen-year-old body facing his drunken father but now his father was pointing a gun at him and his mother was next to him with a butcher’s cleaver in her hand. 

“You killed her and you’re going to kill me off one day. This is preemptive. No jury’ll convict.”

“Demon! Evil!”

“No! This is a dream! A nightmare! Mom’s dead and Dad would never do this! I hated what happened with Mom! I was with her every day while you worked, Dad. And even when she didn’t recognize me and hated me, I still stayed with her. This is a dream and I don’t understand why my powers didn’t save her. Why the trauma of her attacks didn’t jumpstart them. Why it took the Bite to do it. Why?!?”

The two nightmarish figures of his parents advanced on him, raising their weapons. “I just want to WAKE UP!”

Stiles sat up in his bed, panting, his face wet. He pinched himself and counted his fingers. One of his research binges had discovered that when dreaming you always had too many or too few fingers. Many of the pack had nightmares, including their Alpha, and Stiles had undertaken the task of finding what help he could for them. And himself. Most of them were now able to realize their state of unconsciousness and take control of their dream, to varying states of success. 

During normal nightmares, Stiles was the best at changing them up and making his subconscious his bitch. But when he had night terrors, he was the least effective at control. The best he was usually able to accomplish was forcing himself awake. Like he just had.

Stiles pushed his tangled covers off his body and turned to sit with his legs dangling over the side of the bed. His feet remained off the floor as he counted his toes. Just in case. Ten. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Pinching himself hurt. He was awake.

But his state of consciousness didn’t negate the worries and thoughts raised by his dream. For the past six years, Stiles had wondered where his powers had come from. Why he had a Spark and such a strong one that it negated the Bite, rather than disappearing, more or less, when he was bitten, which should have turned him into a werewolf. 

Peter said it was genetic. Every book, every website on the supernatural dark web, every practitioner he had spoken to, they all said the same thing. Sparks were either genetic or gifted in ritual circumstances. 

Stiles had no recollection of being in a magical ritual before he was bitten. And his father said he wasn’t in one as a baby or in the womb. Stiles questioned and tested his father thoroughly and he wasn’t magical at all. The most there was a heightened sense for lies. He spoke to his paternal grandfather, in a retirement home with dementia. No trace of magic in him. Stiles read family diaries and they were all fairly normal. Interesting as historical artifacts but mundane overall.

Tracing his mother’s family was harder. He hadn’t really questioned her much about them before she died and his father only knew the basics. But from what Stiles could find, there was no magic within the line. Stiles was a magical anomaly and it bugged the hell out of him.

Stiles sighed and lowered his feet to the floor. As he glanced at his alarm clock, he saw that it was only just after 3 in the morning but he knew he wasn’t getting back to sleep after that dream. From prior experience, Stiles knew that if he managed to fall back asleep, which was a question in and of itself, he would have the same nightmare or very similar with added elements to increase the terror. Which would leave him pale and off his game for a good half of the day. And considering he had his first day of his junior year of high school starting in less than five hours, it was a bad idea to even try. Better he be a bit tired from lack of sleep than hazy and confused about reality for most of his day.

Stiles stood up and headed for his desk, maybe shooting some zombies on the computer would work out his subconscious frustrations. As he slid into his seat and reached for his laptop, Stiles froze. He remembered clearing off his desk before going to sleep the night before to get it ready for the new school year. But there were three books spread open on his desk. Two of them were opened to one of the tables of contents pages and the other to the middle of the index in the back of the book. 

Stiles glanced at the titles. While he had read all of them in the past, none of them were recent reads or dealing with anything that had caught his attention over the summer.

Most people would be freaked out and start wondering who had been in their room, had they sleepwalked, were they losing their minds, forgetting things? Stiles just shook his head and examined each book, keeping the pages they had been opened to marked by a piece of notepaper. He was accustomed to his magic acting on his subconscious wishes and that nightmare had been one hell of a wish.

_ Celtic Myths, Legends, Gods and Goddesses (1962), Urban Legends of the United States: Midwest (2011),  _ and  _ Places of Power: Magical Beacons & Fairy Circles (1936).  _ Stiles couldn’t figure out a connection just based on the titles, publishing dates, or what he recalled from their contents. 

However, he trusted his magic, at least to this extent.  _ Something _ he desired during that dream summoned these books to him. Stiles opened up his laptop and began a new file folder, followed by a new document. After closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths, he began to type. He allowed his stream of consciousness recollections of the dream to flow onto the screen. He had done this before and absolutely hated it, but it was better than thinking it through or worse, talking about it. After forty-five minutes, Stiles’ typing petered to a halt and he sat back in his chair, mentally and emotionally drained, but with a likely answer. He desired to know where his power came from and why it activated when and how it did. 

Stiles turned his attention to the books and spent the next hours until his alarm went off reading over the sections covered in the indexed page of the third book and making notes on the paper he had used to mark his magic’s place. When he had time, and the required attention span, he would do the same with the swathes of the first two books that were listed on the table of contents section that had been opened while he dreamed. Then he would need to collate his notes and find the commonalities to trigger the next step in getting his answers.

Stiles stood and stretched his back, arms over his head before he hit the shower, and got ready for school. He grabbed a quick breakfast of some cereal and juice before grabbing his packed backpack and his car keys. 

He had to meet his best friend Scott outside his house to give him a lift. Luckily, unlike before Peter’s awakening, Scott lived a two-minute walk from Stiles’ front door. After acclimating to the Alpha power, Peter had settled into the role well. One of his first acts was to hire an architect and design firm to build a new Pack house. Peter had quickly realized that a centralized house like his families’ burned out husk wasn’t going to work. His new pack wasn’t an extended family unit. It was many disparate families. 

So, Peter had taken some of the Pack funds and with input from the kids and eventual agreement from their adult guardians, he had created a housing development for his new Pack. It centered around the main Pack house where Peter lived with Cora. 

The house was more properly termed a mansion to any normal person as it had thirty-six bedrooms, twenty full bathrooms, eight half-baths, two dining rooms, a kitchen that wouldn’t be out of place in a five-star restaurant, a walk-in refrigerator, a walk-in freezer, a library the size of a small house, a large den, four office spaces, a schoolroom, three game rooms, an enormous basement with comfortable six cells for transformations, three airtight fireproof panic rooms and an escape tunnel that he built himself with the help of the pack.

The house had a large open space around on all sides, with grass and wildflowers, very natural looking. Built on a cul-de-sac around the house were houses for every family in the Pack, of varying sizes based on what the family needed and wanted. Peter had given each family enough money to build a good house large enough for their entire family. Any further upgrades on a house were up to the individual family to fund on their own. This led to the Whittemores and the Martins having large houses for families of only three. But both families had lost a lot of their snobbishness with the revelation of what each of their children had become. 

There were currently three empty houses in development for any new Pack members and Peter had plans to expand the development in another larger cul-de-sac around the first when more houses were needed - when the teens grew up and wanted to move out of their parents’ homes. 

One of the empty houses had once been planned to be the home of Isaac and his father and brother. However, Camden Lahey had died five months after he’d joined the Army, which he had done four months before Peter had woken up. And in his grief, Coach Lahey had turned on Isaac and tried to beat him. 

However, Isaac wasn’t a scared human kid. He was a relatively new werewolf. Isaac had wolfed out after the first hit and mauled his father. 

The man had survived but had been charged for assault on a minor, child endangerment, and after several of his former students came forward with allegations of abuse on them, he had gotten a sentence of six years and lost custody before the houses had been completed. Peter took custody and Isaac lived at the main Pack house.

So, instead of the half-mile or so, that had separated Stiles’ house and Scott’s house when they were kids, now they lived almost next door to one another. Stiles’s dad, Noah Stilinski, and Scott’s parents, Melissa and Rafael McCall, hadn’t thought the boys being direct next-door neighbors would be good for any of them. 

And considering Peter had realized fairly early on that a pack made up of one adult and nine kids under the age of thirteen was the definition of insanity. He had proceeded to bite several of the adults, with consent, who were already Pack adjacent due to their children’s statuses. And one of the first was the man who was now his Right Hand, his Second, and the Sheriff of Beacon County. Also known as Stiles’ Dad. It meant that the adults got their way and Stiles couldn’t look out his bedroom window and see into Scott’s bedroom.

But only one house was in between the Stilinski house and the McCall house, and it was one of the empty ones. So, by the time Stiles was in the blue Jeep, once his mother’s, now his, Scott was walking down the sidewalk in front of the empty house. 

Scott slung his backpack into the rear of the Jeep and hopped into the passenger’s seat. The glance he threw at Stiles turned into a literal second look. “Stiles, dude, you look like shit. And you smell really stressed. You okay?”

Stiles sighed and ran his hand over his head as he turned the key in the ignition. “Bad night.”

Scott’s brow furrowed. “You can’t be that worried about school starting. You’ve got like straight A’s. In advanced classes.”

Stiles shook his head as he pulled out onto the street. “Just nightmares.”

Scott shook  _ his _ head. “Nope. Nightmares wouldn’t have you looking like this. It was that night terror thing, wasn’t it?”

Stiles sighed again, wishing Scott was as oblivious as he was when they were kids. He’d been more than a bit self-centered before he became a werewolf with a stable pack and an attentive Alpha. “Yeah, night terrors which triggered a dream wish magic-fueled research binge at 3 this morning. The next few weeks are going to be not fun. It would have been a lot more convenient if this dream had happened like four or five weeks ago, dude. Hopefully, the teachers will gradually ramp up our homework and not just start out the year with a bang and avalanche of papers and projects and research and pages of math problems and -“

“Agreed. Do you need any help? Of the supernatural variety? I’d be of no help in the academic stuff. Except maybe English. But I can help with the Pack stuff if you need me.”

Stiles smiled as he made the turn of the main road to town, which would take them right to the high school in twenty minutes, assuming no shenanigans between now and then. “Thanks, man. But for right now it’s going to be a lot of research. When I know what I’m supposed to be finding info on I’ll probably need to go to Peter for access to the Pack library and his brain.”

“Okay. Well, if that changes let me know.”

“Got it.”

****Section Three: Love at First** ** ****Sniff** **

Scott and Stiles pulled into the parking lot outside the school and made their way towards the building. Scott stopped dead a few dozen feet from the door and took a deep breath before his head turned to look to the side of the building. He saw a beautiful girl on her phone, someone he’d never seen before.

“Hey, Stiles? Do you know who that is?”

Stiles turned and looked at the place Scott was gesturing. “Uh. Nope. Don’t know her. But it is the first day of school. She could have transferred from Beacon Valley High or had been homeschooled or she could have moved in over the summer and be a new resident of Beacon Hills. Why? Your wolfy senses tingling? Do I need to call Peter? Or my dad?”

Scott shook his head, his gaze following the girl as she walked into the building. “She’s gorgeous.”

Stiles huffed a laugh. “You had me worried a minute there, Scotty. But it’s just your first crush. They grow up so fast.”

Scott shoved Stiles lightly. “Shut up.”

Stiles laughed. “Seriously, man, don’t scare me like that on a day when I’m not fully awake and, you know, functioning.”

Scott stuck his tongue out at Stiles. “I’m gonna go see if I can catch up to her. Find out her deal. Maybe show her around if she  _ is _ new.”

Scott walked off and heard Stiles call after him, “You go get some, stud!”

Scott followed the scent of the girl to the main office and waited a bit down the hall. He didn’t want to come off as a stalker. Though he kinda was. But he didn’t want to be creepy about it. But he might anyway. He’d have to keep an eye on himself. He knew he tended to be pushy and selfish sometimes, though his parents and Stiles told him he had been doing better over the last few years. Peter had smacked him down hard, a few times literally when he’d been an ass and a brat when he was bitten. 

Once Peter had woken up, Scott knew that he had gone through a spoiled jerk phase. He was able to be athletic without his lungs seizing up and he was fast and strong and kids other than Stiles wanted to hang out with him. He’d really hurt Stiles. He’d even tried to convince him he wasn’t pack because he was human, even if he had magic. Peter had been really harsh with him, told him he was more willing to cast Scott out as an omega than get rid of Stiles. And if he did that, he’d have to leave Beacon Hills and hope to find a pack that would take him in before he went feral. And his parents would have had to move, too, since he hadn’t even been a teenager yet. It would have screwed with their jobs and their lives and could have gotten all three of them killed by hunters once they were outside Stiles’ protections over Beacon County.

Scott had woken up and realized after he was being horrible, and after a long talk - lecture - by his mom and dad that  _ he _ was in the wrong, not Peter. Scott had been ranting about how mean and evil Peter was, how he wasn’t understanding that Scott had been changed without his wanting it, that it was Peter’s fault because it was an Alpha from  _ his _ family who had bitten him. His mom had made him see what a little hypocrite he was being. Not that he knew that word then but it had a vocab word from last year in English and he took care to remember it because he felt he had a tendency to it that he wanted to avoid. 

Scott had loved the positive changes the Bite had brought - his asthma gone, his popularity, his strength, and speed, even the pack bonds. But he still acted like that day was the worst in his life. 

It  _ was _ the worst day in theirs for Peter and Cora. They had both lost their entire family. And Peter had been there and seen, smelled, and felt it happening to him as he burned as well. Scott learned his lesson, though he still needed it reinforced sometimes. But the Pack and the Alpha were great at pulling him up short when he went off the rails or even started to.

Stiles was a little shit about it and would roll up a newspaper and smack him on the nose. Even though Peter hated the dog jokes - and Stiles had  _ hundreds _ \- he allowed and even encouraged this one when Scott was being a selfish ass. Or when Jackson was. Scott was learning and he actually kind of liked the idea that Pack was everything. 

And though Jackson had mellowed and gotten less jerky since the Bite, Scott refused to allow the other wolf to beat him. So, he kind of anchored his unselfishness and pack focus on doing better than or at least equal to Jackson. Everyone had thought - and still did - that it was Stiles who had the big feud and hated Jackson when they were kids. But Stiles had just been protecting Scott and Scott had used his friend’s devious brain to get revenge for things Jackson had done - not to Stiles, but to Scott.

Scott shook himself - literally - from his thoughts when he saw the beautiful brunette exit the office alone. She was looking down at a piece of paper in her hand. 

Scott approached her as she looked around and back down to the paper, turning it around in her hand and he smiled. “Hey, need some help?”

The girl looked up at him and smiled a small smile. “Um, yeah. I need to find my locker and my homeroom. I’m new here. My family just moved to Beacon Hills a couple of weeks ago. I’m a junior, though.”

Scott grinned. “Well, welcome to Beacon Hills. I’ll gladly show you around. I’m Scott.” He held out his hand for the paper in her hand.

The girl blushed. “Oh, God. Sorry. I didn’t even introduce myself and I’m asking for a favor. My name’s Allison. And my locker is 372M.” She reached out and shook his extended hand, misunderstanding.

Scott made sure to keep his grip light. “Okay, well, the M tells you it is in the math hallway. This way.”

Scott pointed the way and they began to walk as the hallways around them filled with more students.

——

Scott slid into a seat in his new homeroom less than a minute before the bell rang. He was smiling huge and Isaac raised an eyebrow. “Almost late on the first day, Scott? Not a good way to start junior year.”

Stiles leaned around Scott. “Our boy’s got game. He saw a new girl - or at least someone neither of us recognized - and chased off after her hoping to show her around.”

Isaac smiled, “Aww, twu wuv. Their eyes met across a smelly school hallway and they never looked back.”

Scott scowled. “Shut up. She is new. Her name’s Allison and her family just moved here over the summer. She’s so smart, she’ll be in a few of your classes, Stiles. Her dad’s job has them moving around a lot, evidently, and she’s been to five schools for the last two years.”

Isaac tilted his head. “Sounds like an army brat.”

Stiles shook his head. “Except for the fact that the closest army base is almost three hours drive from here. And the closest military base from any branch is an hour and a half on good days. I don’t know what else, though. Migratory worker? Except she didn’t look like that.”

Jackson piped up from behind them, “You mean Hispanic?”

Stiles shot a frown over his shoulder. “Don’t be a racist dick, Jax. I meant her clothes were fairly high end. Not exactly designer, like Lydia, but definitely not Walmart. And closer to Lydia’s stuff than the latter. And a migrant farmworker family wouldn’t be spending their money on that kind of thing. But he might be a consultant - agriculture or otherwise - but again, not many farms around here.”

Scott sighed. “She said her mom did some kind of merchandising or something. Maybe she worked for a clothing store?”

Stiles shrugged. “Maybe. But why move here?”

Scott smiled. “I don’t know and I don’t really care. She’s awesome and sweet and funny and beautiful and she smells really good and her voice sounds like -“

The teacher pushed a little buzzer on her desk that made a surprisingly loud sound. “Okay, I know everyone’s not settled in yet and this is only homeroom but I need to take roll before the bell for first period rings so, quiet down.”

——

Second period Scott walked into class and saw Erica and Boyd already there. He walked over and sat in front of them. Erica leaned forward and whispered, “One of the new kids in school is named Argent!”

Scott turned in his seat, “What?”

Erica nodded. “I texted Peter after class. It shouldn’t be a problem, right? Stiles’ protections should keep us safe from them.”

Boyd grumbled low in his chest, subvocally. “She was in my homeroom. I texted Peter, too. She didn’t smell like wolfsbane or mountain ash. Though I did get a faint hint of gunpowder. Not like she was carrying but like she is around guns and maybe hunts. Maybe not  _ Hunts _ hunts but like deer or bear or something.”

Erica nodded. “Or just target shooting. But not really, really recently. It was faint, subtle. And I guess Argent isn’t  _ that  _ unique of a last name. It  _ is  _ just the word silver in French so it  _ could  _ be a coincidence.”

Scott nodded as the teacher entered the room and the bell rang to start class. “I’ll keep an eye and nose out.”

——

Scott walked into his third-period class and sat across the aisle from Allison. She was already sharing a desk set with Lydia. Allison smiled at him. “Hey, Scott.”

Lydia leaned forward, “You know Scott?”

Allison nodded. “He found me this morning, lost and bewildered, and was sweet enough to show me how to get to my locker and homeroom. And general directions for after that. The map the office gave me was really confusing.”

Lydia nodded. “The numbering system is odd. Room 31A is next to room 34A but on the other side is 17C. Just as an example.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, A is for art rooms and C is for choir or music rooms. And M is math, L is languages, S is Sciences, H is for Humanities or like Social Studies but S was already taken.”

“Woah,” Allison’s eyes were wide. “That is crazy.”

Lydia patted her arm. “You’ll get used to it. The school isn’t really that big, just confusing for newbies. Freshmen hate it until October or so.”

Allison nodded. “I’m with them.”

Lydia smiled and winked at Scott when Allison turned her head to look at him. “Just stick with us and you’ll be fine. We’ve got a pretty big circle of friends.”

Allison smiled. “Thanks.”

The teacher stood up from behind his desk as the bell pealed, “Welcome to English 3. If you’re looking for Japanese, you’re in the wrong place.”

A weak laugh circled the room as the students sighed at a teacher who thought they were cool and funny.

“Now, I know a few of you from previous years but not all, so we’re starting with the roll, and then I’ll be handing out the syllabus for this semester. I don’t do one for the entire year because things can change fast. We can fall behind, get ahead, blah, blah, blah. So, here we go, just say here when I call your name. Peter Adams.”

“Here.”

“Allison Argent.”

Allison sat up in her seat, “Here.”

Scott’s eyes widened and he gulped before taking a very deep breath. He sorted through the scents of the classroom and the students around him. He blocked out Lydia’s well-known scent and focused on the other girl at her desk. He tried to ignore how wonderful Allison’s scent smelled to him and went deep. 

Scott wasn’t the pack’s best at identifying and following scents, not even just counting the kids and not the adults like the sheriff who was actually even better than Peter. Angelica was actually the best, then Danny. But Scott  _ was _ better than Erica or Boyd.

Scott smelled the gunpowder that the other two betas had picked up but very, very, very faintly, Scott picked up notes of wolfsbane. It wasn’t strong enough or placed correctly in her scent pile to be something she worked with. But if her parents who moved around all the time did so and then spent time with her, hugged her? Yeah, that made sense of the way the scent was there but deep and placed oddly.

Allison was an Argent. As in  _ the _ Argents. Like Kate who had burned the Hale house down and killed most of Peter and Cora’s family. Except for the Asshole Alpha.

——

Scott climbed into the passenger seat of Stiles’ Jeep and put his backpack into the rear. Stiles put the vehicle into gear and backed out of the parking spot. As they left the lot, Scott relaxed into his seat as Stiles began babbling on.

“Boyd told me that he told you about the new kid named Argent in the school. I heard all about it from him and Erica and Cora. Peter texted me to keep an eye out and I did, but most of my teachers didn’t call roll and I saw three kids today I didn’t recognize. One of them was your crush, so I guess I recognized her but only as that, not as anything else. And I am assuming that the Argent is in our year since they were in advisory with Boyd. But Erica made a good point that Argent isn’t really that distinctive of a name on the face of it. It is just that it is the name of the boogeyman's family here in Beacon Hills. Well, boogeywoman’s family. Though, according to Peter, it is the boogey _ man _ , too, just not as directly. Because  _ her _ father, Gerard, got up to all kinds of horrible shit in the year or so before the Fire. 

“But still, Argent isn’t a really odd name. It isn’t as common as Jones or Smith or Jackson. But it just has bad connotations here for us. It would be like worrying about someone with the last name Myers if you lived in Haddonfield, Illinois,, or someone with the name Bates if you were from Fairvale, California. It isn’t their fault that their last name is the same as a psychotic family of supernatural hunters and there’s a stable pack of supernatural creatures here in town. 

“And Boyd said they didn’t smell any hunter scents on Argent. No wolfsbane or mountain ash. Plus, there is the magic field thing around the county. We know it still works because it chased off that witch who was passing through and was planning to use —“

Scott turned out Stiles’ ramble, knowing he was going to start running in circles until he could do something productive about the problem he perceived. Scott had long ago trained his hearing to pick up on changes in Stiles’ heartbeat, tone, or smell that indicated an important change in conversational direction.

For now, Scott wanted to dwell more on the fact that he knew that the Argent that had the Pack so worked up  _ was _ from a hunting family. No one knew that and Scott didn’t have to tell that Allison was the Argent in question. She was too sweet and pretty to be a hunter. And besides, Stiles’ bubble would keep out anyone human who wanted to hurt them. Or well, human-ish. Pixies and red caps and yetis were a different story. 

So, he could just keep quiet. No one needed to know. And maybe he could ask her out and she might say yes and they could date and fall in love and get married and have lots of babies with her beautiful eyes.

But, Lydia knew Allison’s last name was Argent. And so did Jackson. But they didn’t know about the faint whiffs of wolfsbane on her and her stuff. And he didn’t think the better trackers would get close enough to a high school girl to smell it. It would be really creepy and like inappropriate. So, even if Jackass told everyone her last name, that the girl Scott liked was Allison  _ Argent _ , Scott could just go with the thing that Argent wasn’t really an uncommon name and that the magic bubble would protect them. Then everyone would calm down.

When they arrived at Stiles’ house, Scott followed his best friend to his room, content with his plan. Then Stiles sat at his desk and opened his laptop.

“Okay, like I said, I’m going to find out what I can through public databases before I try using Dad’s access codes for the department’s stuff. And if I get stonewalled, I’ll get Danny on it. It just seems too coincidental that just when Kate Argent is on the run from the law and her picture is plastered everywhere in the world, Argents would show up in Beacon Hills. And while I think he is a giant hypocrite, I still admire Gibbs’ rule 39, there’s no such thing as coincidence.”

Scott flopped on Stiles’ bed, head hanging over the side, and groaned. Even if Stiles wasn’t able to find something, Danny would. Damn it!

“Hey, Stiles?”

Stiles glanced over his shoulder as his fingers continued to type. “What’s the matter, dude? We’ll figure this out. No worries.”

Scott put his arm over his face. “I didn’t tell you something,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Allison was in my third-period class.”

“That’s great, Scotty.”

“Yeah. The teacher took roll. Her name is Allison  _ Argent _ .”

Stiles flailed as he spun his chair around but stayed in the seat. “Scott! This is crucial intelligence, man! Did you get the same vibe off her after you knew her name? You didn’t smell any hunter scents, right?”

Scott rolled over. “Does wolfsbane count?”

“Scott!”

Scott sat up. “She isn’t a hunter. The smell was really, really faint and oddly placed on her. She hadn’t been handling it or using it.”

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. “Oddly placed like evidence transfer from someone who does use it and does handle it. Someone she lives with? Someone who moves around a lot for no apparent reason for work? Like, oh, Allison’s parents?”

Scott bit his lip for a second and reluctantly nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

Stiles turned back to his computer. A few more keystrokes and he made a sound of triumph. “Allison Argent, only child of Victoria and  _ Christopher  _ Argent. Christopher Argent, only son of  _ Gerard _ Argent. Only brother to wanted  _ serial killing rapist Katherine “Kate” Argent. _ Scott!”

Stiles spun back around. “You know what you need to do?”

Scott looked up from under his lashes. “Ask her out?”

Stiles stared at him. “Inform the Alpha, was what I was going for, Scott.”

“Peter doesn’t care who we date. As long as we're respectful.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow and Scott scowled at him. “I bet he’ll care that you’re wanting to date the niece of the woman who tried to kill him!”

Scott pouted. “Allison didn’t have anything to do with that. She was eleven.”

Stiles sighed and rubbed his hand over his face before reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a magazine. He rolled it up and shook it at Scott. “I will swat you on the nose! You know I will, dude. I get that Allison seemingly isn’t a hunter. Now. But will she? Does she know about the supernatural? The Argent family is bad news. And Peter is our Alpha. He needs to know. You’re being self-centered again. You weren’t going to tell anyone about what you smelled, were you? Not until you realized I would find out that her family had a connection to Kate.”

Scott sat up straight, his crooked jaw firm and raised. “I didn’t know Kate was Allison’s aunt!”

Stiles stood up and took a step forward. “But you knew she had been around wolfsbane enough to vaguely smell of it. You knew her last name was Argent. You knew her family was very migratory. You aren’t stupid, Scott! And neither am I. Neither is the rest of the pack! Those three clues say something very basic. And you are being disingenuous by saying you didn’t know Kate was her aunt. You knew she had some connection, even if not how close, biologically.”

Scott scowled. “I like her.”

Stiles slumped. “I know, dude. But this isn’t a secret you can keep. We still don’t really understand what my magic field does, exactly. We can extrapolate based on past data but with the Argents? Better safe than sorry. And frankly Scott, if Peter found out you were choosing a crush you’ve barely spoken to and whose family could be gunning for the pack over the pack, your last lesson would be a toddler’s timeout in comparison. And not even your mom would protest.

“Talk to Peter. Tell him what you know and what I found out. Confess to your feelings and explain - calmly - your problem. Don’t make assumptions about his reaction or hers. I think you should feel her out by bringing up the supernatural in conversation. Resident Evil or Ghostbusters or Twilight - she is a teenage girl - or Supernatural or Buffy. And have other pack members, werewolf members, nearby. And you all track her heartbeat, her chemosignals, her reactions, micro-expressions. Figure out if she does know about the supernatural, about werewolves, about the pack. Find out if she knows about what her aunt really did and why. Tell Peter that plan -  _ after _ the confessions. Then things can move forward. Maybe you’ll be able to date her. Maybe not. But the pack needs to know as much as possible about potential danger, Scott. The problem six years ago was due to secrets being kept. Don’t let it happen again.”

Scott nodded. “Aren’t you coming with me, dude?”

Stiles laughed. “No way, dude. Take your lumps like a man. Like a werewolf man. This was your fuck up. Own it. But -“

“But what?”

“I will be speaking to Peter later about my own stuff, about what I need about my magic. And I will bring this up then, too. So, no hiding things.”

Scott’s shoulders slumped. “Got it.”

Scott stood up and left Stiles’ bedroom with a small wave. He heard Stiles turned back to his desk and open his magical books.

——

Scott trudged into the Pack house, dreading the coming conversation. But he knew he couldn’t avoid it. If he tried to talk around it or kind of lie without lying, Stiles would totally snitch on him. 

Stiles was sort of between being the pack’s emissary and training to be the emissary properly. And he took Pack security really seriously. There wasn’t really anyone to be a proper emissary among the adults of the pack. Those who weren’t weres were not supernatural at all and even though you didn’t  _ have _ to be more in some way to be an emissary, it was best if you were. So, currently, Stiles took on some of the duties that needed a supernatural human and several of the parents handled the rest while Stiles studied.

Scott thought it was a shame that the Hales’ previous emissary had up and left town within a week of the Hale fire. Or more like within a week of Stiles’ spell bubble thing enveloping the town. Scott always thought Doctor Deaton was nice and had hoped to get a job with his vet practice one day. But when Peter learned that the vet had disappeared so swiftly, he had gloated about warning his sister not to trust the man. Peter was mean like that. So was Stiles.

Which brought Scott’s thoughts back to his present predicament as he walked through the foyer of the Pack house. Isaac came down the hall as Scott approached.

“Hey, man. You’re early. Peter called a pack meeting for after dinner about the Argent issue.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, well, I have some info he needs to know about that before everyone shows up.”

Isaac nodded. “Okay. Did Stiles find out something? Why isn’t he here?”

Scott licked his lips. “He did find out some stuff about the Argents. And he needed to do more research before he talked to Peter. But he wanted me to tell the Alpha about it right away.”

Isaac nodded. Scott smiled to himself. Isaac didn’t hear a lie because Scott hadn’t lied. He was learning from watching and listening to Stiles.

“Well, Peter’s in his office. Is your mom on the night shift?”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, all week.”

“You should stay for dinner then. Peter made chicken fried steak.”

Scott’s mouth watered. “With his biscuits? And the sausage gravy thing?”

Isaac grinned. “Yep.”

“I’ll stay if Peter lets me. I love his chicken fried steak.”

“See ya later then.” Isaac ran his hand down Scott’s arm as they passed, scenting him. They tried not to do things like this in public, even though the whole town knew about the pack but in private it was fair game.

Scott nodded, returned the gesture absently, and walked down the hallway until he reached Peter’s soundproofed office. He pressed the panel next to the door to essentially ring the bell and the door swung open a few seconds later.

Peter stood from behind his desk and walked towards Scott. “Scott. You’re early.”

Peter laid his hand on his beta’s shoulder and squeezed lightly.

Scott tilted his head, flashing his throat and when Peter rumbled in approval he ran his hand over his Alpha’s arm.

“Stiles convinced me to come. Isaac said you were calling a full pack meeting later about the Argents.”

Peter nodded and led Scott to the seating area. “Yes, it is concerning. The timing is suspicious. But it helps that your fellow betas didn’t smell anything off.”

Scott bit his lip and looked away. “Scott.” Peter narrowed his eyes. “Scott, what did Stiles want you to tell me?”

Scott glanced up at Peter and golden eyes met red. “He found out some stuff.”

Peter’s red eyes flashed brighter. “Do not obfuscate with me, Scott,” Peter growled low in his throat.

Scott trembled, bared his throat and apologized. When Peter calmed down, Scott explained everything, what he had smelled, who Allison’s family was, and the draw Scott felt towards her. He even confessed to wanting to protect her and his plan to lie to the Pack about her connections. By the time he was done, Scott was a mess, teary and choked up.

Peter wrapped his arm around the boy and laid his hand against the nape of his neck. “Shhh.” Peter rumbled in his chest, soothing his beta.

Eventually, Scott pulled himself somewhat together and sat up. Peter’s hand remained on his neck and Scott took comfort in it, the connection, alpha to beta, family, pack.

“I understand hormones, Scott. You’re a teenage boy. And a werewolf to boot. But you should thank Stiles sincerely. If you had followed through on even a bit of your plan, even for one conversation, or part of one, the consequences would have been severe. On you. On your mother. You’re growing too old to be excused as a pup. This would have been a banishment offense, Scott.”

Scott whimpered.

Peter squeezed his neck. “But Stiles stopped you. And you saw his truth and chose well. You need to grow up, Scott. And take responsibility for your choices and think about the possible consequences of them. Not just to you but to others, to Stiles, to your mother, to the pack, to Allison. I understand your points. When Kate set the fire, Allison was the same age you were when you were bitten. And she smells of wolfsbane but not directly. 

“I agree she isn’t an active hunter. But that says nothing about her beliefs or her knowledge. She isn’t likely to just tell a random cute boy she just met that her family hunts and kills supernatural creatures. She may know that. She may not. She may think her aunt is a hero, a martyr for the cause. Or she may hate her for violating their so-called code. Or she may only know what the mundane news reports say and believe her aunt is an insane serial killer. 

“Stiles’ plan is a good one. I will tell him to bring it up at the pack meeting tonight. I won’t inform the pack about your initial plans to hide things and put this possible hunter you just met above their safety. 

“But use your head for more than just a place to wear a hat. And when you have that conversation Stiles suggested, do  _ not _ ask her out. The pack will meet and compare notes on what is discovered about her during that conversation and we will proceed from there. Don’t sneak around behind my back, Scott. Derek did that and it cost the lives of most of my family. Meanwhile, I will continue my research into the actions of the adult Argents who have moved to Beacon Hills.”

Scott swallowed. “You already knew that -“

Peter raised his eyebrows. 

Scott lowered his eyes. “Yes, Alpha.”


	2. Episode Two: Convergences

**Episode Two: Convergences**

**Section One: Plans & Research**

The Pack sat around on various furniture in the lounge of then Pack House. The meeting on how to handle the Argents had lasted nearly an hour and most of the teens were approaching the time they had to return to their homes. Stiles was tired as he watched the bickering from his place in a corner.

Peter sat in a comfortable armchair and silenced the group who were talking over one another. “Enough. Until we have more information on the Argents, their reason for moving to Beacon Hills, their recall of the supernatural here, and the knowledge of the daughter, we cannot move forward with any plans.”

Noah, the Sheriff of Beacon County and the Pack Second, Peter’s Right Hand, nodded from his place on a nearby loveseat. “Peter is correct. There isn’t anything we can do. Yet. And frankly, some of your plans,” he looked at Hayley and Jackson, “are not happening, regardless. I  _ am _ a cop. We will not be preemptively killing a family. Not even a Hunter family. Not even the Argents. And we don’t know if we would be protected from any consequences of an act like that by the spell on the town. We have no knowledge of any crimes committed by  _ these _ Argents. Listen to Peter.”

Peter smiled at Noah and inclined his head. “So, we need information. Tomorrow, Lydia and Scott, both of whom have formed tentative friendships with Allison Argent, will invite her to eat lunch in the courtyard. Stiles will be close enough to hear and watch for micro-expressions and body language but not participate in the discussion. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac will be close enough to hear the discussion with their werewolf hearing and will listen to her body’s signals and pay attention to any chemosignals you can pick up. Matt, Danny, Jackson, and Hayley will be manning the cameras and microphones we’ve borrowed from Noah from a distance for later review by the entire pack.

“Once Scott and Lydia have her in place,  _ Lydia _ will bring the conversation around to supernatural in pop culture, whether it is Harry Potter or Twilight or something else, I don’t care. Muse on the thought of what if that were real. Scott, chime in with thoughts but think them through before you open your mouth. Do not give away your status. And with Lydia present, there should be no flirtation or expectation by either of you that this encounter is in any way romantic. Both of you, pay attention to her cues and don’t overdo it. We need this intel and are counting on you. Once the conversation moves on to other topics at her push, don’t bring it back unless the topic was changed right away. We can’t afford to make her suspicious. Whether she knows about the supernatural or not, she  _ is _ an Argent and she won’t be a fool.”

The pack nodded at their assignments and acknowledged the Alpha’s orders, no matter how nicely phrased. The meeting broke up and most everyone gathered their things and headed for their homes.

Noah stayed in his seat and Stiles moved to sit next to him while Peter scented each pack member as they left. Scott scented Stiles before he headed home and several of the others also ran their hands over his back and arms as they walked by.

Once the rest of the pack was on their way to where they needed or wanted to be, Peter returned to the lounge and laid his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. Noah laid a hand of his son’s other shoulder. Peter leaned over and rubbed his cheek against Stiles’ short hair. 

“Thank you for your help, Stiles.”

Stiles leaned back into the hands on him and relaxed. “It’s my job. Or will be. Or kind of is now. And this is my pack, too. Scott was gonna be screwing me over along with the rest of you. It’s just, I love Scott, he’s my brother in all but blood, but he’s just inherently selfish. I mean, all teenagers are kind of self-centered and have a hard time seeing the wider world beyond their own circle. Even me sometimes. 

“But with Scott, it is more of a struggle because Scott isn’t just the center of his own world. To him, deep down, he’s the only real one there. He’s always related to other people based on how it could benefit  _ him _ . It’s central to his character. He’s more important, his opinion matters more than anyone else’s, his decisions are right and anyone who disagrees with him is not just wrong but evil in some way unless he can see a use for them to him somewhere, in which case, they are just misguided. And they need him so he can show them the light. He’s gotten better since he has been in the pack but it’s a constant struggle for him to not put himself ahead of everything and everyone.

“I mean, I get it, in a way. I think I’m relatively self-aware and over the years I’ve looked at myself and my actions a good bit. After - after Mom - before I was bitten - I was starting to have some sociopathic tendencies. More than just being a little kid could account for. I couldn’t really care that other people were just as real as me, as the people I cared about, like my Dad or Scott. I grew out of it because of the pack. It wasn’t inherent in me but if things had continued on, with me being so socially isolated with only Scott as a friend - I can see myself becoming a full-on sociopath by the time I was my current age. And Scott, well, with him it is kind of inherent. He’s narcissistic and selfish and incredibly self-centered. So, I understand him and now, he’s having his first serious crush and if he isn’t jerked up sharpish, it’ll lead to disaster. So, I supplied the first jerk and sent him to you to apply more pressure. And it worked. Hopefully, things work out so that it sticks. But we need to keep an eye on him.”

Peter squeezed his shoulder and hugged him from behind while his dad slid his arm around Stiles’ back and hugged him sideways. “You’re a good kid, kiddo.”

“I love you, Dad.”

Stiles reveled in the embraces and soaked in the love the two men so freely offered. After several minutes, Noah gave one last tight squeeze and stood up. 

“I need to head into the station and grab the surveillance equipment needed for tomorrow. Stiles, you can stay here if you like and I’ll take you home when I come back to drop it off. Danny will be by in the morning on his way to school to pick it up, right?”

Peter nodded. “Yes. He’s giving Isaac and Cora a ride tomorrow so it isn’t even out of his way.”

Stiles snorted. “The Pack House is central to all our houses. It isn’t out of anyone’s way if they are coming from home.”

Noah smiled and scented Stiles and Peter before he left the room. Once the beta werewolf was in his cruiser and on his way, Peter shifted on the loveseat and leaned back against the arm, tugging Stiles until he was laying in a lounging position, curled up against the Alpha.

“Alright, so tell me what you were so caught up in that you sent Scott here by himself. Normally, you would try to help him in a situation where he nearly fucks up.”

Stiles sighed. “For one thing, I need to stop doing that. Scott needs to take responsibility on his own for his actions more. We’re juniors in high school. He needs to grow up. And I think -“

Peter laid his hand over Stiles’ mouth. “I agree. However, this isn’t going to turn into a thirty-minute treatise on Scott McCall’s needs and emotions. Again. No deflecting. What happened?”

Stiles bared his neck and Peter removed his hand. “I had a dream last night.”

Peter tightened his grip. “You don’t mean a dream. That wouldn’t trigger this kind of response. You mean a night terror.”

Stiles nodded and snuggled deeper into his Alpha’s comforting embrace. “Yeah. I was - it was Dad and then Mom. It started as kind of replaying that night. The one on the anniversary of her death? Where Dad was drunk and really upset?”

Peter sighed. “You mean the night two months after I woke up when I walked in on you bleeding from cuts from the bottles he threw at you. And he was passed out on the floor. The one that had me taking you into my own custody for a month until he got sober and proved he could be a parent. And not an abusive or even negligent one. Or even a workaholic one.”

Stiles nodded and squeezed Peter's torso. “Yeah. And then it changed into a memory of Mom where she was trying to kill me with a knife. It was the event that triggered Dad into agreeing she needed round the clock supervision. And the recurring theme was that I wanted her dead because otherwise, my powers would have activated to save her or that I wished her dead and that’s why she died.”

“He accused you of that, didn’t he? When he was drunk?”

“Yeah. That night. And the thing is, it’s kind of true. I mean, I love my mom. I miss her so much. But she stopped being my mom long before the body in the hospital died. She stopped recognizing me three months before her body gave out. She didn’t even see me as a demon who wanted to kill her, which is what she thought for months before she was hospitalized by that point.”

Peter ran his hand in circles on Stiles’ back. “You know, that your feelings are natural, right? You were a child going through horrific experiences. And your mother’s illness wasn’t your fault. Her death wasn’t your fault. Even if you sometimes wished it was all over. Your spark was dormant. I don’t know why the Bite activated it and not something else but it did. You couldn’t have been responsible for her illness, her death, or her living and not dying. Your father was a mean drunk, and not grieving healthily.”

Stiles sighed. “I know that in my head. Mostly. But emotionally, I mean, I know it isn’t logical and whatever. But I still wonder. I did even before Dad brought it up. And it came up in the nightmare. I wanted to know and I wanted it so deeply in that moment that my magic activated and when I woke I had books on my desk that had been away on my shelves, and they were open. I spent hours this morning before school and then after Scott left reading and researching them. I think there are a few books here that might cover more of some of what I need but I’m not sure.”

Peter smiled. “Well, let’s go and see what we can find before your father gets back. I must admit I’ve always wondered. So, let’s satisfy our curiosity for the next step.”

Peter nudged Stiles and the teen stood up and Peter joined him. They went to the library and Stiles explained his theory on what the books had nudged him towards. Peter found two more that would give more in-depth information on the topics Stiles felt drawn towards. They spent the next half hour skimming through them until Peter looked up with a sigh.

“I can hear your father’s cruiser. He’ll be here in five minutes. But I think I know your next step. You know what ley lines are. And that where they meet, they make a node. Well, here in Beacon Hills, a large number of them converge on one spot in the Preserve. And on that spot, a Nemeton grew. I can tell you how to get there. I came across it years ago and though Talia removed the location from my mind, the Alpha spark gave it back. I think you need to go there. See what you feel, what you sense. And report back. I think this all might be happening now for a reason. Something triggered your night terror last night. Something may have wanted you to wish that wish. And we need to know if that is true.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay, I’ll find it and see what I sense.”

****Section Two: Plans Meet the Enemy** **

Scott smiled at Allison around a bite of his sandwich. Lydia had convinced her to sit with them on the outdoor terrace for lunch, enjoy the nice weather before fall really sets in. Everyone was in their places for the “operation” and Scott was impatiently waiting on Lydia to change the subject to the supernatural somehow. It had better be soon, they were all nearly done with their food and the lunch period was half over. 

Scott took a sip of his water bottle before he opened his mouth and was stupid. He wanted to start the questioning, he needed to know how Allison felt about werewolves. If she even knew about them. He really wanted to ask her out. She was so beautiful and she smelled so good and he was convinced they were meant to be. He really wished that soulmate marks were an actual thing, outside of fanfiction, anyway. Then he could show everyone and Peter would have to let them be together. And their lives would be perfect and they’d go to the same college and get an apartment together and not live in dorms and as soon as they graduated, Peter would give Allison the Bite and they’d get married and Allison would have their first cub within a year or so. 

Scott blinked himself out of his fantasy as Lydia sighed and slid her phone back into her pocket. He hadn’t even noticed her take it out.

Allison looked concerned, her brow furrowed cutely. “Is something the matter, Lydia?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “It was a text from Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. Have you met Stiles, yet? I know he’s in some classes with you. We’re sort of friends, I guess. I mean, we are, but he can be really annoying sometimes.”

Scott feels a pressure on his foot and jerks, eyes widening. “Stiles is great!” He smiled at Allison. “He’s my best friend. We’ve been tight since like primary school. And yeah, he can be annoying, he talks a lot. He has ADHD but he’s great.”

Lydia’s shoulder relaxed a small bit. “Yeah, fine, whatever. But he’s a total nerd. Or geek. Or both. I can never really keep those straight. Anyway, he just preordered the last Harry Potter movie and wants to have a pa-“ Lydia coughed and took a sip of her water bottle. “Party and have a movie marathon of all eight movies.”

Allison tilted her head. “You don’t like Harry Potter?”

Scott laughs. “Lydia loves Harry Potter. She’s seen all of the movies and read all the books and has all kinds of fandom stuff in her room.”

Allison’s mouth turns down and her tongue licks her bottom lip. “Then what’s the problem.”

Lydia blew out a breath. “Stiles is a geek or nerd or whatever and is incapable of keeping his mouth shut. The ‘viewing party’ will turn into plot hole picking and discussions of events and characters and ideas for fanfictions. And, well, I’m not the only one who loves Harry Potter in our group of friends. And Stiles knows better than to really talk over the movies and so they will be paused while debates rage over Dark magic versus Light magic. And an in-depth discussion about Dumbledore and his real intentions.”

Scott grinned. “And of course, at  _ least _ an hour about the books versus the movies and which is better in different parts and being upset that certain characters and storylines were cut from the movies.”

Allison smiled, her lips shining and plump and kissable. “Frankly, it sounds fun. I’ve never really had any friends who were into that. Not in real life rather than online, anyway. We moved around too much to find a group like that.”

Scott leaned forward. “I’m sure Stiles would welcome you. It could be fun.”

Allison lowered her eyes and her cheeks bloomed with a light blush. “If you think he wouldn’t mind.”

Scott felt a harder pressure on his foot but just pulled his leg back. “Nah, he won’t mind.”

Lydia smiled tightly. “The more the merrier, I suppose. Though it won’t be for a few weeks. He’s just preparing in advance since he pre-ordered. What’s your favorite character, Allison?”

“Oh, um, well, I like Harry, of course, though he is really the least curious kid. But my favorite is Dobby. He’s so loyal and loving.”

Scott sighed. “That’s so sweet.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. “Scott really likes Remus Lupin. He and Jackson get into fights about Remus and Sirius versus Remus and Tonks.”

“Which one is you, Scott? Tonks or Sirius?”

“Oh. Tonks. She just pushed him out of his self-hatred spiral, and she sided with him. He hated himself because he was a werewolf and didn’t deserve her or good things. But she wouldn’t stand for it and got him to give her a chance and even had a son with him, before the end. She couldn’t live without him. And her Patronus changed with how much she loved him.”

“Hmm. I look forward to a debate on movie binge night, then. Between you and Jackson.”

Lydia took a sip of her drink. “As long as you’re prepared for the possibility of role-playing, Allison. If people are in the mood, we take on personas as if we got our Hogwarts letters years ago and try to stay in character. Six months ago, we even had a party where we chose Houses out of a hat and characteristics from another, like muggle-born, pureblood, werewolf, animagus, half-goblin, half-giant, Veela. Well, you get the idea.”

Scott laughed, “Yeah, that was  _ your _ party. And you call Stiles a geek.”

Lydia shrugged. “It was fun. I ended up being a werewolf in Hufflepuff with a penchant for charms and divination. I think Scott was in Slytherin and a half-blood and I don’t remember what else.”

“Clumsy in Potions and a prodigy in runes.”

Allison grinned, her mouth just begging to be kissed. “Sounds interesting.”

Lydia smiled. “It was. Haven’t you ever wished your Hogwarts letter would come? That all of the magic and wonder was real. Spells and potions and giants and unicorns and werewolves and mermaids and Quidditch and goblins and wands and moving staircases and portraits and vampires and fairies?”

Allison nodded, her hair gleaming as it caught the afternoon sun. “I guess. But that would mean Voldemort and Death Eaters and killing curses and Cruciatus would be real, too. And that’s - scary.”

Lydia put her finger on her mouth and tapped it. “But in all life, the good comes with the bad. Werewolves are cursed but perfectly safe if they take their potion. And, yes, there are bad werewolves, like Greyback. But there are those who fight for good, like Lupin. And I’m sure there were hundreds that just tried to live their lives as much as the Ministry would let them.”

Allison nodded and stared off into the distance, her beautiful eyes glistening with moisture. “Yeah. Voldemort doesn’t need to be real for there to be evil in the world.”

As Scott opened his mouth to reply, the bell for period change rang and Allison shook her head and stood up. “I’ve got to hurry. My next class is on the other side of the building.”

Scott watched her hurry off as he stood and grabbed his trash and his backpack. His head tilted as he enjoyed the view. Until Lydia smacked him over the head with a book.

“What the fuck, Scott?!? I told Stiles that you shouldn’t be involved in this discussion. Peter specifically told you  _ not _ to ask her out!”

Scott paled. “I didn’t. You brought up Stiles’ party! It would have been rude not to invite her.”

“I spoke of a hypothetical party weeks out hosted by someone she hasn’t even met, really. Something that could have fallen through in the intervening weeks.  _ You _ made it a solid thing, a definite. And the idea was a casual, not suspicious way to ease into talk about Harry Potter and thus the supernatural. You better not have screwed this totally up, McCall! Hopefully, we got enough to go forward with.”

Lydia stalked off towards her next class, as Scott frowned in upset and confusion.

****Section Three: Worlds Collide** **

Stiles tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of his Jeep as he drove down what had once been the driveway of the Hale house. Peter made sure it was kept in decent condition for several reasons, not least because the area around the end was a great place to park when you wanted to be in the Preserve. The pack often did training deep inside and parked there when they did. 

The training could be fun and had paid off within a year of Peter’s ascension to Alpha. That was when they had discovered that while Stiles’ ward kept out those that wished or planned to truly hurt the pack or anyone with a connection to the pack - the definition of which grew over the years - it didn’t effect certain supernatural creatures. If a creature was simply surviving and in doing so causing death or destruction, but it wasn’t malicious or planned but simply instinctual, the ward didn’t stop them. Basically, if a creature was sapient, it kept them out or kept them calm and non-aggressive. If they were basically on the level of an animal, the ward let them through.

Their first encounter had been with a group of red caps, little demonic type creatures whose sole need was to feed on death and blood. Literally. Killing things and bathing in their blood kept them alive. They didn’t eat in the regular way, just through deaths. They were nasty and incredibly tricky and hardy bastards. 

The pack was able to use the training Peter had given them as a precaution and a way to help control the wolves’ aggressive tendencies to battle the evil things. Stiles had created weapons for himself, Lydia, Matt, Harley, and Jared. They looked like baseball bats or field hockey sticks or ice hockey sticks but were made of metal and infused with magic and wrapped in a kind of barbed wire. 

The wolves used their beta forms and the humans their weapons. It took three weeks to take the fourteen red caps out over the course of eight fights culminating in a grand melee for the final two. The problem with taking on a group of red caps, they had discovered the hard way as Peter had never actually dealt with them before, was that if you don’t take the entire group out more or less simultaneously, the deaths of their fellows at the hands, claws, or weapons of non-red caps will strengthen the remainder exponentially. The final two had been like fighting dozens of them. 

The pack usually had to deal with various creatures like that three or four times a year. But the lesson learned had been to have solid research before engaging. 

The adults in the pack and pack adjacent, even Peter, had been unhappy that the then still preteen or barely teen members of the pack had been in battle. But the pack simply wasn’t large enough, then or even now, to handle threats like that without them. The ratio of adult to non-adult in the pack was still skewed to the young. And if they hadn’t taken out the red caps when they did, more than some wild animals and four pets would have been killed. They would have moved onto people within a few weeks. Unless they happened upon an unlucky someone alone in the Preserve. So, Peter drilled the pack after that in all sorts of tactics and they got used regularly.

But today, Stiles was headed for the Nemeton. Peter had been able to give him basic directions from his old home and it was a logical starting point regardless. Stiles wasn’t thrilled with the idea that his magic felt he needed to see a tree that wasn’t exactly a tree but a magic beacon. Especially if the reason he had the dream that triggered the magic wish in the first place was because something was summoning him. The tree? Peter thought it was possible, and he was their best resource, so here Stiles was, trekking out to the middle of the Preserve to find a mystical tree.

Stiles pulled into the parking area made where the driveway had once ended. It didn’t have demarcated parking spots, no white lines marred the paved area. It wasn’t public land, but Stiles parked in the spot he always parked in when he came here, regardless. They all did. The areas weren’t assigned, it was just something that had happened as the pack came here. 

Peter always parked in the spot closest to where the porch of the house had once been. But today, in the spot where Peter always parked his high-end sports car there was a different car parked. It was a black classic sports car. Stiles didn’t really know his car types like Jackson or Scott did. It had never been something that interested him very much. But his mind did catalog things in his environment. And he didn’t know this car, this car parked on private property, at a memorial to a murdered family, a murdered pack. Just when Argents had moved to town. 

Stiles climbed out of his Jeep and cautiously approached the car, glancing through the windows but seeing nothing odd but a zipped backpack in the back seat. He passed the car and neared the memorial, magic buzzing under his skin with his increased anxiety.

Stiles was a dozen steps from the memorial sculpture when he heard movement behind it and a man appeared and stood with his arms crossed, a scowl on his bearded face. The man practically growled as he spoke to Stiles. “This is private property.”

Stiles’ eyebrows rose and he tilted his head to the side. “Yes. I know. It is.”

The dark-haired man’s scowl deepened. “So get lost.”

Stiles smirked. “I have permission to be here. Unlike you.”

“My family owns this land. So, I’ll say again. Get lost.”

Stiles shifted his weight and chuckled wryly. “Peter and Cora Hale own this land. Free and clear. The rest of their family is either confirmed as dead or missing and  _ presumed  _ dead with no claim on any of the Hale property. So, if you claim that your family owns this land, that means you’re a Hale and don’t know that you personally no longer have any claim to it. Peter made sure that the family members who were missing and presumed dead were removed from any possibility of inheritance for their abandonment of him, just in case. And, you being here, shows that he had the right idea. 

“So, if you  _ are _ a Hale, and presumably haven’t had a sex change in the past six years, not that there’s anything wrong with it if you did, but just to make things easier, I am presuming you didn’t. Then that makes you either Terrance, Jamey, Max, Derek, or Lionel.”

Stiles’ smirk deepened. “Now, I know it is possible for a 13 year old to grow facial hair but I think your build and the sheer amount of hair on your face makes it highly unlikely that you are that young. So that means you cannot be Jamey. And while some people get good genes, I don’t think there is any way you are older than thirty. So that rules out Max and Lionel. So that leaves Derek or Terrance and since Terrance had red hair, then unless you’ve dyed your hair, you would be Derek Hale.”

The man’s eyebrows had lowered over his eyes the more Stiles spoke and when he reached his conclusion, the man’s scowl was so deep that it appeared to be cut into his face. “I’ve never dyed my hair.”

Stiles smiled and raised an eyebrow. “So then,  _ Derek _ , where have you been for the past six years?”

“None of your business.”

“Hmm. Not so sure about that. But I have one question that is  _ definitely _ my business. What color are your eyes, Derek?”

Derek’s eyes widened a fraction before he grunted. “Blind, are you?”

Stiles grinned a too large smile full of teeth. “Driving a Jeep when you’re blind. That would be a feat. And illegal. And highly dangerous. And stupid. And I’m not stupid. And neither are you. Derek Hale didn't get straight A’s in school but his GPA was over 3.5, so if you really  _ are _ Derek Hale, you know exactly what I mean. Show me your eyes.”

Derek charged at Stiles and he threw up a hand and thrust forward before clenching it into a fist. Derek came to a halt and his feet left the ground as his body curled up. Stiles walked toward him, keeping his concentration on the spell. After a minute or so, he slowly opened his hand and lowered it and Derek sprawled out on the ground.

Stiles watched the man struggle, understanding it was all internal before he sat up and looked at Stiles and flashed his wolf eyes.  _ Blue _ wolf eyes.

Stiles nodded. “Okay. Well, that raised more questions than it didn’t. I am sorry for the spell but you tried attacking me and I was just defending myself. My name is Stiles Stilinski and I’m a mage in the Beacon Hills Pack. Welcome home, Derek.”

——

Derek stared in confusion at the hand the boy - Stiles - held down to him. He was confused and on edge and wasn’t sure what to do. He had driven across the country in the Camaro that Laura had bought a month after the fire. They had lived out of it as they traveled across the country, only occasionally staying in a motel, rather than using streams and rivers to wash up. It had taken them two months to get to New York because they stopped every few days to pick up odd jobs and some under the table cash.

Driving it back to Beacon Hills had been both a happy time, lingering in the nostalgia of time spent one-on-one with Laura, and a bad time, dwelling on his current circumstances. For one, Derek felt that he was almost an omega. Laura had more or less rejected him. He could still feel their pack bond but it was incredibly weak and stretched thinner as he headed further west. 

For another problem, Derek’s mind continued to spiral deeper into depression as he accepted the realization that the woman he had loved and been forced to abandon was in actuality just using his teenage self to kill his family. The longer he traveled alone without support, the deeper he fell into self-hatred and blame. By the time he reached the Beacon Hills sign, Derek was completely convinced that if he had kept his dick in his pants when he was fifteen, his family would have survived, that there would have been no fire.

Derek had driven through the center of town and seen so many familiar sights. Part of him had wanted to stop at the diner and grab a burger or swing by the high school and get in on a pickup game of basketball. But the larger part of him, the wolf inside, urged him back to the pack’s den. The wolf insisted on seeing the devastation that his actions had caused firsthand, something he hadn’t been able to see that night, Laura having found him on the road home. She had told him that he didn’t need those sense memories. But he deserved them. He deserved to live at the remains of his family's home, among their metaphoric ghosts.

Derek had been uneasy as he had driven down the fairly smooth and well-maintained driveway towards the house. It had been six years and the road surface should have deteriorated with no one there to care about it, no one to pay to keep it in driveable shape.

Then Derek had reached the end of the driveway and instead of the bones of a house, a shell with ashes and charred wood and stone, there was a large sculpture in the center of a garden. He had parked in the spot his mother had used for her car and gotten out. 

Derek had approached the sculpture, a large marble scene of a pack of wolves, from pup to adult, lounging and playing together on grass and wildflowers. It was beautiful and the base held a simple brass plaque with the words: In Memory of the Hale Family, Lost in Fire, May The Moon Shelter Them and Bring Them Peace. A large garden filled with wildflowers and grass and flowering bushes was around the sculpture in all directions, spread out over the entire area the house once occupied. Gravel pathways wound their way through the garden and several low benches were scattered in a seemingly random way throughout the whole.

Derek had gone around to the far side of the sculpture and was looking at a list of names, those who had died that night when he heard a car coming up the drive. He remained behind in the small hidden area until the driver was close by and then had tried to drive them off so he could figure out what the hell had happened in the past six years. 

But the driver, Stiles, had tossed that idea on its head. The boy had challenged Derek’s right to be there and then proceeded to deduce his identity. He had mentioned that Peter owned the land. Peter and Cora! But Laura had said everyone had died but them. But if this boy said Peter and Cora owned the land now, then they must have survived. 

And when the boy had taunted him again, urging him to show his wolf’s eyes, Derek leaped to the conclusion he was a hunter, here to finish off Derek. Derek couldn’t control his wolf and charged him only to get his ass handed to him by the boy, not a hunter but a mage. And now, the boy, Stiles, was reaching out to him, apologizing and offering help. 

Derek and his wolf whined in tandem and the boy, Stiles, reached out further and grasped his arm, tugging on it. Derek allowed the - Stiles to help him to his feet and looked at him, lost and confused. “What pack?”

Stiles smiled a little smile and nudged Derek toward one of the little benches. “That is a long and somewhat complicated story. And it ties in to why I asked you about your eyes. Once you had identified yourself as a Hale and I figured out who you must be, I needed to know if you were an Alpha. You aren’t. But were you ever? ‘Cause I know you can lose your alpha spark without losing your life in a few different ways, so were you an Alpha when you left Beacon Hills the night of the fire. Or did someone else receive Talia Hale’s spark?”

Derek frowned, even more confused. “No, I've never been an alpha. My older sister, Laura, inherited our mom’s alpha spark when she - when she died.”

Stiles sighed and nodded. “Laura survived as well? And she was the Alpha that night? She received the spark directly from your mother?”

Derek shrugged. “I don’t know for sure that she got it  _ directly _ from Mom. It could have passed to one of the others or several. It - it depends on when Mom died in comparison.”

Stiles gasped and reached a hand out, laying it on Derek’s arm. Derek stiffened. “I am  _ so _ sorry. Sometimes I don’t think things through. That was really,  _ really _ insensitive. And it wasn’t even what I was trying to find the answer to. I meant, she didn’t get the spark from someone else who wasn’t in the fire. Someone else who was in town.”

Derek shook his head. “No. She got it at pretty much the same time as the pack bonds began to break.”

Stiles huffed out a breath. “Okay. Well, I don’t know if you will believe what I’m going to tell you but if you just believe it for now until Peter can corroborate, I would appreciate it. I’ll take you to him as soon as we’re done here. Okay, the night of the fire, my best friend Scott and I were at the playground by the middle school. It was a nice night and lots of kids were there without really any adult supervision…”

** **Section Four: Reunion** **

Stiles entered the Pack House, Derek on his heels. Derek had followed his Jeep in his car and Stiles had texted Peter a heads up before they left the memorial sight. The reply he had read while waiting at a red light had relaxed him, knowing that his Alpha agreed taking Derek to Peter was the right thing to do.

Stiles could see Derek gazing around the foyer of the large house as they waited for their host to arrive. The man’s gaze seemed to catch on the wall of photos near the door to the main lounge. There were shots of the Pack, candid and posed, as they grew up. Many of them featured Peter, Cora, or both, and Stiles figured that was reason enough for Derek to examine them closely.

Peter seemed to know what was going on as it took several minutes for him to appear at the end of the hallway near his office, much longer than it should have considering the warning text he had received.

Stiles stood back and watched as Derek’s head came up and turned as soon as Peter appeared. Stiles figured Derek heard and recognized Peter’s heartbeat or something once the Alpha was out of his sound proofed office. The look on Derek’s face hurt Stiles’ heart. It was a heartbreaking look. One that was full of loss and longing. 

Peter stride quickly down the hallway and once within the foyer, he spoke softly, “Derek.”

Derek whimpered and bared his throat. To Stiles, not a were but knowledgeable enough about their behavior, all things considered, it looked almost involuntary on Derek’s part. Peter smiled and approached the younger man and pulled him into an embrace. Derek slumped against him and his arms wrapped tightly around and Stiles could see how tightly he held onto his uncle by the strain in the muscles of his arms, seen below the short sleeves of his shirt.

Stiles really wanted to leave and not intrude further but Peter’s text had made it clear he wanted to have a word with him before he went home so, his curiosity aside, Stiles turned his back on the two men and looked over the photographs on the wall, remembering good times.

Over five minutes later, he heard a soft “Stiles” and turned back around. Peter was standing with one arm around Derek and the younger man’s eyes were reddened. Peter smiled at Stiles.

“Thank you for bringing Derek to the house. He and I are going to talk but you need to postpone your trip into the Preserve. It will keep for another night and it is too late now. The sun would be down before you even got to where you were headed. And considering the lack of true urgency, you can go tomorrow instead, directly after school. I know you are free then. 

“After dinner tomorrow there will be a pack meeting to discuss today's information gathering session. That will give the pack who weren’t involved directly a chance to view the videos. 

“Your job tomorrow, along with Lydia and Hayley, and anyone else who has a chance, is to keep Scott from opening his mouth around her and making things worse than he already has. Remind him of the conversation he and I had about the matter and the consequences to he and to Melissa if he disobeys me. He does not have permission to ask her. If it is granted, it will be after tomorrow’s pack meeting, at the earliest. Make sure he understands and verbally  _ acknowledges _ his understanding by repeating back what he knows about this. And step in if he seems to be forgetting or heading in a direction where his mouth will write a check that his ass can’t cash.”

Stiles nodded with a smirk. “I can handle him.”

Peter looked unimpressed. “No newspapers or leashes. We don’t need her suspicions up.”

Stiles smiled. “Any leash will be invisible to the human eye, Alpha. And the rolled newspaper will be metaphoric. At least while at school.”

“Good. Now get home and get your homework done.” 

Stiles approached Peter and was scented and scented him in return before he left, giving a smile and nod to Derek. “It was - nice to meet you, Derek. See you around, I guess.”

As Stiles walked out the front door, he turned to pull it shut and saw Peter leading Derek down the hallway toward his office. He hoped things went well but unless he was brought in for some reason, it really wasn’t his business. Even if he  _ really _ ,  _ really _ wanted to know.

——

Derek sat in a comfortable chair across from his uncle in a wood-paneled office, dominated by a heavy wooden desk. The room had several walls of built in bookcases filled with books. There was a small seating area with a coffee table off to one side of the room by a large bay window and that’s where they were.

On the little table, there was a tea set with large cups and a large pot. Derek found it odd because Peter had never been overly fond of tea. He always claimed he could taste the dirt in the tea leaves. However, as Peter poured out the contents of the pot into the cups, Derek’s confusion eased. The teapot want filled with tea, it was filled with hot cocoa, which also explained the little bowl with mint chips and bowl of whipped cream.

Derek accepted the cup Uncle Peter extended to him and added a large scoop of whipped cream and sat back in his chair while his host doctored his own cup. When they were settled, Derek looked away.

“I - I didn't know you survived. The boy said Cora’s alive, too.”

Peter sighed. “Stiles. His name is Stiles. And yes, Cora wasn’t in the house when the hunters came. She was in the hidey-hole in the tree and I was nearby and smelled the wolfsbane on them. I told her to stay hidden and I tried to get to them, to at least get those who were human but I couldn’t. They set up multiple lines of mountain ash and I ended up trapped between two of them. I was badly burned and ended up in a coma for six months because the wolfsbane embedded in the burns and in the smoke slowed the healing. I only fully healed when I became an Alpha.”

Derek took a gulp of the hot cocoa. “The boy - Stiles told me a wild story about -“

Peter nodded. “He texted me. He told me you were here and that you weren’t the Asshole Alpha. That is what the children came to call the one who bit them during the time I was comatose and it stuck. He also told me that Laura survived and had your mother’s spark.”

Derek frowned. “Yeah. She became my alpha that night. She found me on the road to the house and stopped me from going there. She said everyone was dead. I had felt the pack bonds break and I swear, I couldn’t feel yours or Cora’s. Just weird echoes. And gaping holes.”

Peter snorted. “Is that what she called them? Those weird echoes were the pack bonds created when she bit nine children in the playground that night. I can understand you not being able to distinguish my bond among the trauma of so many lost and torn bonds. But Laura as an Alpha would have known the difference. And she knew I was alive. She saw me loaded into the ambulance if she was at the house, or close enough to it to know the smell of it. And she heard me roar. She was injured during the attack on the children and she Alpha roared. I responded. The children all say that is when she returned to the woods and headed in the direction of the house.”

Derek shook his head. “There must have been a rogue alpha around that night. Laura never would have bitten little kids.”

Peter sighed. “She did, Derek. My guess is that the rush of alpha power on top of the snapping of so many bonds caused her to lose control. It is understandable. What isn’t forgivable is her abandoning those she bit. She may have not remembered right away once she regained control. But there was no way that was hidden from her for more than a few minutes. And she just took you and left town, abandoning those she bit, as well as myself and Cora.”

Derek slumped in his chair. “I don’t want to believe it of her but she changed, after the fire, after becoming an alpha. I didn’t really take it in at first, didn’t see it but I wasn’t exactly fully aware of things myself for months. But after I got my GED and a job that made enough to move out of the one-bedroom apartment we were living in, Laura more or less dropped me from her life. 

“We would meet on the full moon, usually, but rarely otherwise. I tried. I reached out, would stop by, bring food, dessert, whatever, but she would push me out the door as soon as she could, making excuses that I knew were lies. And Laura knew that I could hear the lie but she didn’t seem to care. The pack bond was still present but the strength has been dimming for years. And she never tried to form a pack beyond me, either, or join another. It was like she just decided to be a lone wolf and didn’t care that if she succeeded I would become an omega if I couldn’t find a pack to take me in. 

“She  _ Ordered _ me before I left, which was against her wishes, to not tell anyone her new name or our location for the last six years. If Mom had given me an Order like that, which she wouldn’t have had to because I wouldn’t have been able to go somewhere if she forbid it, which Laura tried to do, I never would have been able to disobey or even find loopholes. But I’m pretty sure I could tell you our false names and where we lived, down to the addresses, if I wanted to and pushed myself just a little bit.”

Uncle Peter rose to his feet and rounded the table, perching on the arm of Derek’s chair. He laid his hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Talia was raising Laura to be the next Alpha but I was never fully sold on the idea. She wasn’t really cut out for it, her inner core, her mind, even her wolf, they weren’t natural future alphas. But your mother insisted she was just young and she would grow into what she needed to be by the time she needed to be an alpha. But she never got that chance and she proved that I was more right. Even if Laura had been in her forties or fifties when she ascended to the position, she wouldn’t have been a good alpha. She probably would have handled it better than she did, but her time as alpha would have been turbulent or bland. Turbulent for her and those closest to her, bland for everyone and everything else, I suspect.”

Derek leaned into the touch, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. “I don’t know. I was never trained to be an alpha. I wasn’t even being trained to be a Right or Left Hand. Mom said I would be a good beta, a good follower, but I didn’t need responsibility. And she was right. I made terrible choices when I had the chance.”

Peter’s grip tightened on Derek’s shoulder. “Paige’s fate wasn’t fully on you, Derek. I should have been clearer on what I meant and I should never have discussed it when other packs were in town. Ennis would have never chosen to bite Paige if he hadn’t of thought it would give him a close connection to the Hale Pack through your relationship with her.”

Derek shuddered. “What happened with Paige was partly my fault. I should have had the balls to ask Mom if I could tell her about us. But that isn’t what I was talking about, that was a bad decision on my part but I couldn’t have foreseen Ennis’ actions. I meant - I mean - when we left town, I was devastated for more than one reason. The loss of the pack, the fire, running away, not knowing who was after us and if they would follow or not, yeah. But I also left behind - I was - I thought I was in love again. There was a woman, she was a substitute teacher at the high school and - I know now that even if she wasn’t who - even if - a teacher seducing an underage student is wrong. But then, it was like high romance, sneaking around, sleeping together, us against the world and I just left town without even trying to contact her. But I saw - the news - she was the one who set the fire. She used things I said to her to trap and kill my pack. Her real name is evidently Kate Argent. I didn’t even know that. Until the news report.”

Derek looked up at Peter. “You should hate me, Uncle Peter. You should kill me for killing our pack.”

Peter pulled Derek to his feet for a moment, then took Derek’s place in the chair and pulled him into his lap like a child. Derek felt ridiculous for a moment, the proportions were off, he was bigger than his uncle. Then Uncle Peter began rumbling deep in his chest and gripped Derek’s nape strongly in his hand. Derek curled into a ball, his ear pressed against the alpha’s torso, his wolf relaxing within him.

“My poor boy. You just got lost in your head and the grief and shock, didn’t you? And your alpha didn’t help you. Knowing Laura’s recent actions, she pushed you away harder and blamed you, didn’t she? She started the cycle of blame that’s inside you. 

“But I already knew about Kate Argent, pup. Your logic got lost under your self-hatred, my dear nephew. I was one of the ones who found out who was responsible for the fire and pointed the authorities in the right direction. I knew what she had done, where she had gotten to the pack. I thought you were dead - or the Asshole Alpha - but I knew it wasn’t your fault, Derek.”

Against his will, Derek let out a whimper and then a sob. Peter held him tighter. “I’ve got you, Der-Bear. I’ve got you.”

As if the metaphoric dam broke at the childhood nickname, Derek’s single sob turned into an unstoppable wave of sobs, tears pouring from his eyes as he felt his uncle’s embrace and knew he was forgiven. For over ten minutes Derek’s grief and anguish and self-hatred poured out of him and Peter simply held him and let him cry. 

Derek realized how much he needed it. He had never truly taken the time to grieve his pack, his family. Laura wouldn’t let him. She said they couldn’t afford to be weak. And to her, showing honest emotions other than anger was weakness.

When Derek’s tears finally slowed down, he kept his head pressed to his uncle’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Derek felt like an infant, a baby close to a parent’s bosom and protected from the harsh world around them. And it was a nice feeling. 

****Section Five: Pack’s Information Session** **

Stiles walked into the pack meeting frowning. The day had been gloomy and overcast and by next to last class of the day, the skies had opened and it had poured down with rain. School was actually on lockdown at the end of the day because of it. Students were permitted to go where they wished in the building or walk off campus if they wished. But anyone depending on the school buses or their own cars couldn’t leave. The rain was coming down so hard that visibility was less than twenty feet. 

According to a text from his dad, Stiles informed his friends that there had been over twenty car accidents since noon and that one of them was an ambulance transporting injured from another. And three of the accidents included on scene fatalities with a dozen more people in serious or critical condition at the hospital. All of this information, without names just like the text, had been released to the media already. And it was released to the school, which was the reason for the lockdown-esque situation. 

Stiles had used the extra hour and a half to work with some of the rest of the pack on further research into the Argents. Lydia had grabbed Jackson and corralled Allison into the media room to watch the TV they had set up showing the regional news. It was something Lydia would have done anyway but by taking Allison with her she insured Scott couldn’t be overcome by his hormones and self-centeredness and do something stupid. So, Stiles knew that Scott had headed to the gym to run laps and use the climbing wall.

But the weather had kept Stiles from going to find the Nemeton. Again. By the time the rain had slowed down, though it was still raining out, it was nearly dinner time and then he had to leave for the full pack meeting.

Stiles took a seat near Peter’s preferred spot, but not directly next to him. Those were spots reserved for his Right Hand - Stiles’ dad Noah - and his Left Hand - Hayley’s mom Janet, a former Marine and now a werewolf. But by hierarchy, Stiles’s spot, as emissary-in-training and emissary-now-partly - which was only followed in the more formal meeting like this - was directly to the left of Janet. And that is where he took his seat, in a comfy armchair.

Within ten minutes the rest of the pack had filtered in and taken their seat, including those who were only considered pack-adjacent, due to their status as family of pack members but not in the pack themselves. It had nothing to do with whether they had accepted the Bite or were human rather than some form of supernatural. Three of the original members of Peter’s pack were fully human. One of them definitely wanted the Bite when they were of age, one of them was thinking about it, and the third wanted to remain human unless the Bite was necessary to save their life.

Pack-adjacent rather than Pack was simply a matter of how active those people were in the pack and how the person felt about being in the pack. Most of the pack-adjacent simply had no desire to be in the pack. They didn’t want that connection or responsibility. Two felt they were too busy to properly be considered pack, as they didn’t have the time to participate in the vast majority of pack meetings, bondings, trainings, and activities. And one, FBI Agent Rafael McCall, Scott’s father, was based out of Los Angeles since the divorce and so could only justify being in town very sporadically. He wasn’t even going to be here for this meeting, though he was video calling from LA.

Stiles really couldn’t say that he liked Rafe McCall. The guy was overbearing and kind of an ass. It was easy to see where Scott got some of his worst traits from. And he had anger issues. Before Scott was bitten, Rafe would sometimes hit Melissa, his wife, and Scott’s mom, when they were arguing. Not full-on beating but a slap or a backhand to the face or a push to the chest or back, causing her to fall. It was always because he was drunk. He never touched Scott, though. But once, a few weeks after Peter became Alpha, Rafe shoved Melissa at the top of the steps and she fell into Scott. If he hadn’t had his wolfy reflexes, Scott would have fallen down the entire flight of steps, possibly breaking bones, if he survived the fall. 

It was the wakeup that Rafe and Melissa needed though. Rafe stopped drinking and Melissa kicked him out of the house. They were divorced within a year, though they did give it another try before the end. 

So, Stiles kind of hated Rafe McCall. But he had to admit, the guy stepped up when it came to his job. He worked tirelessly with Stiles’ dad and Peter to solve the Hale fire. And he led the charge on Kate Argent when they found her identity. Granted, his ‘discovery’ of a prolific serial killer got him a major promotion. But still, he hadn't known that would happen.

When everyone was present and seated, and Rafe was on the laptop screen and it was positioned to see the whole room, Peter took his seat and cleared his throat. “The past week has brought to light several separate issues that the entire pack needs to be aware of. And decisions need to be made regarding several of these issues. The first thing I will start with is the best news of the lot to my mind. Stiles was out at the memorial yesterday and while there he ran into someone new in town. It was my nephew, Derek Hale. 

“Before you all jump to conclusions, Derek is not an Alpha and has never been an Alpha. He was making his way home after basketball practice the night of the fire when he was incapacitated by the snapping of the pack bonds as our family died. He was only just on his feet again and on his way towards the house to find out what happened when he was intercepted. By the ‘Asshole Alpha’ as we have referred to them for six years. Who I can now state with certainty was my eldest niece, Laura.”

Several members of the pack began asking questions over one another, yelling. After a minute when they didn’t calm themselves down, Peter yelled, a hint of Alpha command in his tone, “Enough!”

The pack subsided immediately and Peter raised his hands to hold back further outbursts. “We have known for years that the Alpha who bit the children was almost certainly a member of my family who was overwhelmed with the power of the spark that night. Laura was one of those on the list of likely suspects as she was my sister’s heir and her remains were not identified in the remains of the house. She was high on the list as her likely, though not at that time definitive, location at the time of the deaths and subsequent biting would have potentially put her near the school’s playground. 

“And now, Derek confirmed for me that some of the suppositions supporting her being the alpha were correct. According to Derek, Laura was running late on her way home from college due to a major accident which tied up traffic on the highway. Derek told me that Laura told him that when she began to feel the pack bonds breaking, she was in town but not near the house and she pulled her car over and got out. Derek had no idea she had lost control and bit children. She never told him. In fact, she explained that the new bonds he felt until Stiles’ protection went up were just echoes of those he had lost.”

Gregory Boyd, Vernon Boyd’s older brother and a werewolf as of three years before, spoke up. “Is she in town? Does she have some way to control the kids, since she was the one that bit them?”

Peter shook his head. “Laura is not in town. From what Derek has said, it is highly unlikely she will ever return. And she has no control over anyone that she bit. Since the night that she willingly left town, allowing Stiles’ magic to cut off the fledgling bonds that her bites had created, Laura had only one bond - to Derek. And frankly, based on what he has told me about his life for the past six years and my knowledge of Laura’s character before the fire, I believe that if she had not simply happened to come across Derek as she hurried out of town, he would have been abandoned by her just as the children, Cora, and I were. Frankly, Derek probably would have been a lot better off if she had left him here. What happens between my nephew and I is for the future, unless someone can give me a legitimate reason why he should have no possible place in this pack. My pack.”

Scott opened his big mouth and promptly shoved his foot in to the knee. “He’s the reason your family died in the fire. Why would we want him around us so he could do it again? He’s obviously evil.”

Stiles face-palmed and waited for the explosions. The first came from Lydia and was both succinct and loud. “Hypocrite!”

Stiles’ dad added his two cents. “We don’t blame the victim of a crime for what the criminal does, Scott.”

Rafe shook his head on the computer screen. “Do you even understand what Kate Argent did, Scott?”

Scott nodded. “Yeah. She and Derek had sex and he told her stuff about the pack and the Hale’s house and then they got some arsonists and mountain ash and some chemical acid stuff and burned the house down.”

Stiles sighed, loudly and obviously. “Scotty, Derek wasn’t at the house. Derek didn’t burn anything down. Derek didn’t just have sex with some random hunter woman, she targeted him, an underage boy. He was fifteen, Scott!”

“Whatever.” Scott rolled his eyes. “He shouldn’t be welcome here. He’s a werewolf and should have known she was a hunter. He probably did and is just lying about it to protect himself.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “No, Scott. Derek was younger than you are now when he met the woman who was later revealed to be Kate Argent. She posed as his substitute teacher under a fake name. And the only information that she possessed that wasn’t available elsewhere, and even this is debatable, is that the family reunion was that night and so he couldn’t meet her. And arguably, she could have discovered  _ that _ information through simple surveillance. 

“Kate Argent had no need to seduce a child to get insider information. She did it because she is a sociopath and psychopath who wanted to hurt him. Derek didn’t even realize that the woman he had feelings for was the one who was responsible for the fire until he saw her picture on the national news when the warrant went out a few weeks ago. And, Scott, your delusions and idiotic, deliberate misunderstandings are moot at any rate as I asked for  _ legitimate objections. _ But I do thank you for the opening to segue into our next order of business.”

Scott scowled. “Huh?”

Peter grinned with too many teeth. “For those who didn’t know, on the first day of classes, one of the new students in the high school was discovered to be an Argent. Research was done by myself, Noah, Rafe, Stiles, Danny, and Matt into her and her family and their connections. The girl’s name is Allison Argent and she  _ is _ legitimately a high school junior. However, her father is Christopher Argent, brother of Kate and son of Gerard. Her mother is Victoria Argent née Lansing, the stepdaughter of the current head of the American Hunter’s Council. Until July, they were active hunters who moved around so much due to the need to follow their ‘prey’ that their daughter has attended twenty-seven schools in the past twelve years since she began kindergarten. Several of the pack had approached Allison in a friendly way before discovering her last name and connections. Yesterday afternoon, the younger members of the pack conducted a surveillance and interrogation session with her. I will let Stiles explain more as he helped coordinate it.”

Stiles sat forward. “We borrowed equipment from the sheriff’s department to set up hidden cameras and microphones around the courtyard off of the lunchroom, manned by Danny, Matt, and Jared in the A/V room. Most of the high school werewolves were positioned around the area to listen and smell. I was close enough to hear but not interact. Lydia and Scott invited Allison to eat lunch with them and after some time, when everyone was ready, I sent a pre-arranged text to Lydia as the signal to begin. She used it to segue the conversation to pop culture supernatural via Harry Potter. Through my watching Allison’s micro-expressions, the weres keeping an ear on her heartbeat, tone and chemosignals, and the electronic surveillance which was later reviewed by Peter, Rafe, my dad, and others, we verified that Allison Argent  _ does _ know that the supernatural exists. We don’t know when she learned this information or how much she knows. We  _ do _ know that she is very conflicted about the matter. To me, and based upon various research I did, psychology, and the fact that she doesn’t have direct contact with wolfsbane or mountain ash, or hasn’t for months, at least, I speculate that her parents only told her when her aunt’s face and crimes hit the news in an attempt to justify the actions of the psychopathic bitch. But, obviously, we didn’t question her directly, so I can’t say for certain.”

Peter nodded. “Thank you, Stiles, and the entire high school pack for your good work. Most of you handled yourselves exceptionally well. Scott, you are lucky Stiles didn’t have a good line to you without being obvious about it or you’d still have welts from the magic he would have used to get you to stop your - romantic overtures.”

Melissa McCall, Scott’s mother frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Peter smiled grimly. “As Lydia earlier yelled, Scott is more than a bit hypocritical. From nearly the moment he laid eyes on young Miss Argent, he was smitten. His goal has been to convince his alpha that he should be allowed to date her. An Argent. Daughter of two hunting lines, next in line to be matriarch of the American branch of the Argent Clan. Granddaughter of one of the worst hunters in all senses of the word in recent decades, outstripped only by his daughter, the murderer of my family. 

“During the interrogation yesterday, he turned what was a hypothetical, potential party over a month away into a definite pack gathering which she was welcome and encouraged to be at. It was one step shy of asking her for a date, which he had specifically been told  _ not _ to do. The only reason I have not punished him is that his actions led to some of the most definitive signals of the girl’s knowledge and feelings about the supernatural. However, if he had endangered this pack by revealing himself and/or Lydia to a hunter’s child, I would have had no choice in what I had to do. And banishment would have been the most lenient of my ways forward.”

Melissa nodded and glared at her son. Matt Daehler cleared his throat. “I have to admit, Allison Argent is gorgeous. And aren’t we already guaranteed that she and her family have no ill intentions and can’t hurt the Pack? I mean, the magical barrier is still there. And they  _ are _ human.”

Stiles blew out a breath. “We know that they can’t cause direct harm to a member of the pack or anyone we consider under our protection. We know they can’t act with malice aforethought. But the spell I cast that night wasn’t deliberate. It was wish magic and we still don’t quite understand all of the parameters. And it has never been tested against a hunter who was living within the county. Kate Argent was gone long before I even reached the hospital that night. If the Argents don’t consider werewolves as more than dumb beasts? Even though werewolves are fully sentient and sapient and human, how much does the perpetrator's mindset influence the magic’s control? We know that farmers and such can kill chickens, cows, pigs, whatever, within the county. We know that the vet can euthanize sick animals. We even know that hunting with a lowercase h is possible of bear and birds and deer in the pubic part of the woods that aren’t part of the Preserve. So, I don’t want to test it.”

Stiles’ dad nodded. “Plus, we know that heat of the moment injuries and deaths can still occur. And if there was a heat of the moment fight with someone who had a gun loaded with wolfsbane bullets…”

Peter nodded. “Exactly. So, we need to meet with the adult Argents and find out their intentions and why they are here in Beacon Hills, all things considered. If necessary, we can get them worked up enough so that the magic urges them to leave town. I won’t bully them to force it but if there is anything off about their reasoning, I can infuriate hunters like few others can.”

Stiles raised his hand. “I offer myself as tribute! I can infuriate even better than you and as I am more human in their eyes, whether they know I have magic or not, as I am not any kind of animal at any time even in their eyes, then the magic would work better as their intentions wouldn’t be as ambiguous if against me. Plus, in this situation, I am the pack’s emissary.”

Peter nodded. “Agreed. But you will be the only teenager present, other than, potentially, Miss Argent. If they don’t know the identities of the pack, I won’t make it easy for them to learn them.”

The teens nodded, even Scott, though Stiles could tell it was reluctant on his part. He decided to keep an eye on his best friend. Try to talk him down off the ledge he seemed to be climbing out on.

Peter turned to the laptop. “What’s the latest news on Kate Argent, Rafe?”

Rafe shook his head and made a noise with his lips. “No reliable sign so far. But there have been reports from known hunter contacts about her reaching out for help. But she’s been turned away. We may try to set up a sting, get one of them to tell her they will help, and be there when she comes in. But we are following all leads first. And she could get help elsewhere first. The hunters have a huge network on this continent.”

Peter nodded. “Keep us posted. Does anyone have anything else?”

At the silence, Peter smiled. “Things will work out. We have overcome lots of obstacles and we’ll get past this, too. Now, get out of here. I made desserts. There’s white chocolate strawberry cheesecake, fudge-dipped mint cookies, tiramisu, and brownie trifle in the dining room.”

The pack nearly stampeded in their rush to get to the decadent desserts.


	3. Episode Three: Resolutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: There is an attempted sexual assault in Section Five. If this is an issue for you, once they get to the cabin, skip down to the next scene break (---).

**Episode Three: Resolutions**

**Section One: Scott McCall Can’t Help But Be Scott McCall**

After the pack meeting, his mom had to go to the hospital for a partial shift and Scott took advantage of her absence and his lack of supervision. While in the past this would have meant sneaking into Stiles’ room to hang out and goof off, that wasn’t what Scott wanted to do. Scott was kind of angry at Stiles for not supporting him and for picking on Allison. So, instead, Scott had tracked Allison’s scent to her house and then listened to the heartbeats inside until he found hers and then found a vantage point in a nearby tree to watch her in her room. 

Scott had spent the night ignoring the dampness from the much slowed down rain as he watched his beautiful darling sleep and thinking on the meeting, and he just _couldn’t_ understand Peter’s double standard. Peter forgave Derek when he was responsible for the fire and Peter even wanted him in the pack. But he wanted Kate Argent dead or in prison forever. And he wouldn’t give sweet Allison a chance even though no one had any evidence that she had ever hunted a werewolf. Allison was such an angel, so beautiful and kind. So perfect. She was going to be such a wonderful mate. He just had to get around his alpha’s orders first. 

Luckily, Peter hadn’t been able to order him to stay away from her entirely as it would raise too many red flags. Because Allison liked him. A lot. Scott could tell from her chemosignals and her heartbeat when he was around. And if Scott suddenly dropped her and ignored her - which he would never do no matter what Peter said - she would be hurt and mention it to her parents and they would have a legitimate reason - see, Peter, he could learn big words, legitimate objection his ass - to hate Peter for his cruelty to their child. And maybe the magic around the county would see it their way and that they were justified in killing Peter for what he did. 

And the alpha spark would have to pick someone and frankly, no one would be as good of an alpha as he would, so Scott would be the alpha, obviously, and then things would change. Allison would be in the pack and Scott would banish Jackson because he was an ass and Cora because she was mean and a Hale. And everyone would listen to Scott and his dreams would come true. 

And they could stop the stupid training because the magic protected them and the stuff in the woods was just nuisances. Peter just had a big head because he was all ‘I am the Alpha and you do what I say’. The fights could easily be solved by chasing the stuff away. Killing was wrong and no one realized that Scott never did it. He didn’t stop the others and he would fight but he always let his opponent live. It was better that way. If others wanted to go to hell for murdering God’s creatures, well, Scott would let them, at least until he was the alpha.

As the sun rose over the horizon, Scott hopped down for the tree after blowing Allison’s sleeping form a kiss. He had a plan that would help him towards his awesome future with the perfect Allison and still be within Peter’s orders. He couldn’t wait until he could start it. The first true step on the road to his dating and then marrying the woman he loved.

Throughout the morning as he got ready for school and got his ride with Stiles, Scott was on edge. Antsy. And yeah, Peter, he knew that one, it was like ants in your pants. Antsy. He once put ants down Jackson’s pants during recess. Everyone thought that Stiles had done it and that it wasn’t as well planned as it was. The adults all thought Stiles had hidden an anthill and tricked Jackson into sitting in it. Actually, 

Scott had a stoppered tube full of ants in his pocket and when they were in line to go to recess after the afternoon snacks, he had unstoppered it and ‘accidently’ fell into Jackson’s back and slid the open end under the waist of his pants as they were tangled up together. Scott also had his hands smeared with honey and made sure to get it on Jackson as much as he could. 

No one suspected Scott, not even Jackson himself. The only one who had an idea was Stiles but he never snitched. Not even when he got two weeks on detentions because the ants bit Jackson so much he ended up with an allergic reaction and a blue face. He was in the hospital for four days. 

Jackson totally deserved it. He never should have cut in front of Scott at the ice cream truck line and taken the last two chocolate crunch ice cream sandwiches. Jackson was always so greedy. And had such a big head, it was no wonder, after all, Peter was his biological father. 

It was too bad that Scott hadn’t known he was adopted until after they were bitten and Peter was awake. He could have had awesome, kickass taunts about how he wasn’t really wanted by his family. They gave him away. Jackson probably wouldn’t have cared because he didn’t have real feelings but he would have pretended to care so people didn’t realize how evil he was.

As they pulled up to the school, Scott was thankful that for all his powers or whatever, Stiles was still addicted to the sound of his own voice and he couldn’t smell chemosignals or hear heartbeats. The plan wouldn’t work if Stiles was around to interfere.

A few hours later, the bell rang signaling the end of the single class that he shared with Allison which had no other members of the pack in it. He had made sure to sit next to her and as her room began to clear out, he turned to her and spoke. “Allison, you seem to really get this. I don’t think I’ll do very well on the test next week. I know it’s just review but I didn’t really get it last year, either. I was wondering if you could come over after school and we could study. You’re just so smart and since we’re in the same class and all…”

Allison smiled and blushed. “I’d have to check with my mom if it was okay. I’m sure she’ll say yes, though. And I’d probably have to be home by dinner. But, yeah, I can help you study. If you’ll help me with my Spanish.”

Scott grinned. “Deal. Do you think you can give me a lift, then? I normally ride with Stiles but it would be easier than you following us.”

Allison nodded. “Sure. I’ll meet you in the parking lot after school. Do you know my car?”

Scott nodded. Of _course,_ he did. “I think so. The dark blue Toyota, right?”

Allison nodded. “Okay, so if my mom says no for some reason, I’ll text you, okay?”

Scott nodded. He was sure her mother would say yes. She had no reason to deny her perfect daughter anything she wanted. Scott watched as Allison left the room and hurried to follow. He had to get to his next class, too. On his way out of the room he bumped shoulders hard with someone and when he looked up, he saw it was Jackson. 

“Watch where you’re going, Jackass.”

Jackson sneered. “You ran into me, McCall. I swear you don’t have a brain in your head.”

“Whatever, just stay out of my way.” Scott hurried down the hall to his next and last class of the day, eagerly anticipating the afternoon’s alone time with Allison. If he read things right, and he was sure he did, it would include things they would never tell their future kids about. 

At the end of the school day, things worked out just as Scott had planned. He had texted Stiles that he was catching a ride with Isaac since he had detention. And he knew that Allison parked in the lot on the opposite side of the building from where most of the pack parked their cars. 

Scott met Allison at her car and they drove to the pack housing division, not that she knew that was who lived out here. Yet. But she would soon. Scott knew she could be trusted with his pack’s identities. Allison would be a member of the pack soon and they would be together forever.

He directed her to his house and had her park in front of the empty house between his place and Stiles’ house. Scott unlocked the front door and he led her to the kitchen to get her a drink.

As they walked in, Scott came to a dead stop. Sitting at the kitchen bar, sipping a glass of soda, was Peter. Allison walked up beside Scott and he saw her smile. “Oh, Scott, is this your dad?”

Peter put his glass down and slid to his feet. He approached the couple and smiled at Allison. “No, I don’t have that particular burden.” He held out his hand. “Peter Hale. We were going to be meeting later tonight along with a few others and your parents.”

Allison smiled and shook Peter’s hand. Scott wanted to yank her behind him, to get her to stop touching the older wolf.

“Well, pleased to meet you early, Mister Hale.”

Peter withdrew his hand and sidled closer to Allison. “Well, it is an important meeting. Your father told me that you know of your future place. And Scott knows his own and mine and Scott knew about tonight's meeting. And knew why the meeting was occurring and what would be discussed and what he should do and _not do_ prior to the meeting. So, imagine my surprise, and at the same time, somehow, not surprise, to get several texts from concerned classmates of Scott’s about this little get together this afternoon, between you and he.”

Allison’s head turned slowly to look at Scott and he paled at the glare on her face. “I was going to tell you before anything happened today, when we got here, but Peter was here! In my home, my space!”

Peter smiled darkly. “With your mother’s knowledge and permission.”

Allison turned back to Peter. “You’re a werewolf? Is that polite to ask that way?”

Peter smiled and Scott took a step closer. “Perfectly polite as long as the company you’re in knows of the supernatural, which I certainly strongly implied that we did. And as long as the tone is pleasant or neutral as yours was. Respectfulness is the key to interacting with anyone, supernatural or otherwise.”

Allison tilted her head. “I can see that. Can you tell me why me studying with Scott is a problem for you? Or is it for him? Or for the - pack?”

“Pack is the term, yes. And the problem is not necessarily you and Scott spending time together. It is your family name, reputation, and prior bad acts of members of that family, specifically, that of your aunt, Kate, towards my nephew and my late family, who she burned to death six years ago.”

Allison gasped. “Oh! A small Northern California town. Oh, did my parents know? Did they know what she did here in Beacon Hills?”

Peter shrugged and leaned in closer and Scott growled low in his chest, inaudible to human ears. “I don’t know, it is one of the things we will be discussing at the meeting tonight. But I think you should go home for now. Talk with your parents and get ready for the meeting later.”

Allison nodded. “Of course. It was nice to meet you, Alpha Hale.”

Peter smiled and held out his hand again. Scott slid sideways in front of Allison. “Leave her alone!”

“Scott! What are you doing?” Allison stepped sideways and shook Peter’s hand. When she turned to face Scott, he frowned.

“I’m trying to protect you from him.”

“It’s perfectly safe, Scott. I’ll see you later, at the meeting.” Allison looked at Peter and Scott didn’t like the look they exchanged before he nodded and left the room.

After the front door closed behind her, Scott whirled on Peter. “Why did you do that?”

Peter flashed and held his red eyes. “You were told to _not_ ask her out, Scott. You knew about the meeting tonight. You knew what would be discussed. And yet, you bring her here.”

Scott flashed his gold eyes. “It wasn’t a date. We were going to study.”

Peter looked over him and Scoot forced himself to not show his throat. “Oh, that wasn’t everything you had in mind, Scott. If you had even planned to open a textbook, I would be surprised. Allison, yes, she thought you were being sincere, but I know better. And you were planning to reveal your status to her, as well. Don’t deny it. You told her so when you first saw me here. Who else were you going to out, Scott? Lydia? Stiles? Isaac? Noah? Sometime in the next day or so, you and I, and your mother and your father, whether through the computer or in person, are going to have a long talk about the consequences of your little rebellion. And I can tell you, you won’t like it.”

Scott bared his teeth. “I love her! And I know she loves me! You can’t keep us apart.”

Peter laughed. “She barely knows you. She didn’t even know you were a werewolf until ten minutes ago. You’re delusional, Scott. Now, I suggest you actually crack a book and get your homework done. Leave Allison Argent alone.”

****Section Two: A Great Big Tree** **

Stiles left school in his Jeep as soon as the final bell rang and headed toward the memorial site. He felt like a bit of a dick but he was glad Scott had detention. It gave Stiles an extra half hour or so to get out into the Preserve and find the Nemeton since he didn’t have to swing by Scott’s house to drop him off. And there was no way Stiles was going to bring Scott along on this magical mystery tour to a magical tree that wasn’t exactly actually a tree but maybe was.

This time there were no mysterious visitors to the memorial when he parked and the weather was sunny enough. There were clouds but they weren’t the kind that made rain. The ground as he hiked into the Preserve, following Peter’s directions and a vague tugging sensation in his own chest, was soggy and the mud was deep in some places. There was no real path to follow, just his compass app on his phone and the odd tug. By the time he reached the clearing Peter had described to him, his hiking boots were caked with mud and detritus from the forest floor, his lower pant legs were splattered with it from walking though and it splashing up, and it had only been a twelve-minute hike.

The mystical tree thing looked pretty normal, just abnormally large compared to the other trees nearby. It looked to be over a hundred feet tall and Stiles estimated its diameter to be around seventeen feet. It was huge and definitely the tree Peter had described.

Stiles approached and walked around to the far side, drawn by something, though he wasn’t sure what. He thought it could be the tree itself because according to his sources, it wasn’t really an actual tree. It took the form of one. It behaved like one much of the time. But it was something other.

On the far side of the tree, Stiles found the root cellar Peter had discussed with him. With a shrug, Stiles decided he had no other ideas and descended to the space beneath the towering tree. 

Once inside, Stiles realized the root cellar didn’t look like a space under the roots of a giant tree. For one, it had a floor and walls. They appeared to be made of a light-colored unstained wood but it did not look natural. Especially as they seemed to provide light to the room without a source of it to be seen. And looking up, Stiles saw a flat ceiling, no sign of the tree’s interior trunk or root structure. 

Other than the walls, floor, and ceiling, the room was nearly empty. The only thing that was anomalous was a strange collection of sort of branches on the far side of the room that kind of looked like they were growing out of a blank wall. It was bizarre and frankly a bit disturbing. Stiles got the inappropriate urge to laugh as he thought he felt like he was in a weird modern art museum where people would look at the thing and talk about it being a comment on the demise of nature as man’s technology increased or something pretentious like that. 

As Stiles got closer to the only thing in the room he noticed something he had missed from further away. There was something sort of cradled in the middle of the branches. They were kind of weaved around it. It was a glass jar with a lid. Just a plain unlabeled jar, maybe once used or made to be used for canning fruits or something. 

Stiles got closer and tried to see inside the jar though the screen on wood. He put one eye up to a break in the overlapping branches and peered into the jar. He couldn’t see anything. 

Stiles, his curiosity overcoming common sense, poked a finger between the branches and tapped on the jar. His nail made a clinking noise as it met resistance, sounding like a finger tapping on a juice glass. It was really there and it seemed to be empty. The only thing in this entire room and it was a bust.

Stiles shrugged and moved to the center of the room, putting the little sculpture to his right side and the opening to the outside to his left. Part of Stiles really wanted to be facing the archway out but that would put the branches and jar at his unwatched back and the thought gave him the creeps. Stiles sat on the wooden floor, cross-legged, and took out a small candle from his backpack. It was a little white, scentless candle in a glass jar. He lit it with care and set it in front of him flat on the floor before slipping the lighter back into his pocket.

Stiles breathed in, held it for a five-count, and breathed out for a five-count. He repeated this five times and then stared at the candle flame as he relaxed his body and let his mind follow as he relaxed into a state of deep meditation. This state had become commonplace to him since his powers had activated with the Bite. He didn’t normally go this deep but felt this situation more than called for it.

As his mind began letting go of its worries and burdens, the walls and floor around him lightened from a pale wood to a bright white color. The candle flame became the only spot of color in the entirely white room.

Stiles rose to his feet and took a step towards where the archway to the Preserve had once been. The wall was blank now. He glanced back to the candle and saw his body sitting there in his meditative pose, eyes locked on the flame. He nodded, a feeling confirmed, and turned his astral form towards the branches curled around the jar. As he got closer, the branches retreated into the wall as if being pulled by an unseen hand. By the time Stiles reached the once cage, only two branches remained and they were underneath the jar, supporting its weight. 

Stiles reached out a hand but before he could touch the glass once more, the lid rose off of the jar and the glass cracked, spider-webbing, first one spot, then another, then another, like a mirror struck repeatedly by a fist.

After two more ‘hits’ the jar shattered and the glass disappeared as it fell past the branches that had once held it. The lid floated down to rest on the branches and Stiles reached for it. 

As his astral hand grasped it, the lid morphed into a flower and then a fern and then four more different flowers. As Stiles brought to his face to smell, it changed into a bowl filled with oil, then the oil evaporated and the bowl lengthened until it was a stick of incense. Before Stiles could even change his grip, the stick shortened and turned white and chalky, and then seemed to melt into a pin with blood on the tip. As Stiles reached out to replace it on the branches, the pin transformed into a crown of branches woven together and the pin shrank rapidly and changed color. In the end, Stiles was holding a silverfish bracelet in his hand which was inscribed with runes.

Stiles reached out to place the bracelet on the branch shelf but it had disappeared. Stiles took an unneeded deep breath and bent to put the bracelet on the floor when he overbalanced and fell backward, impacting his own body.

Stiles blinked as the candle flame flickered out and looked around. The room was the same light wood and the arch to his right led outside. Glancing to his right, the branch cage was gone, as was the glass jar. Stiles sighed and reached out to pick up his candle but stopped in shock as he saw it was now sitting inside the silverish bracelet. After a few minutes of contemplation, he shrugged and put it and the candle in his bag before leaving the empty root cellar.

It was only when he got back to his Jeep that Stiles realized that he had sat down to meditate with the exit arch on his left, not his right.

** **Section Three: The Summit** **

Stiles pulled into a parking spot on the street near the diner. There was a private room in the back with a separate entrance that could be rented out for parties or meetings. The diner would provide any range of catering required from basic drinks and snack platters to full-on sit down dinners from a pre-chosen set menu. Stiles knew that Peter had reserved the room and asked for drinks and snacking platters, with both savory options and sweet options.

As he entered the building, he was surprised to find Scott there. The last thing Stiles had heard, Scott was to stay away. But the Argents weren’t due to arrive for another fifteen minutes, so maybe he was just helping set up. 

Stiles walked over to his best friend and grabbed a bottle of water from the table. “Hey, Scott. Surprised to see you here. How was detention?”

Scott shrugged. “Peter told me to come. And, it was, you know, detention.”

Peter walked up behind Scott. “Is that what Scott told you, Stiles? That he had detention?”

“Yeah. He was going to get a ride with Isaac since he had practice after school. I went and did my research thing that we talked about. And I need to discuss that with you some more to figure some stuff out.”

Scott squirmed as Peter looked at him with red eyes. Stiles sighed, guessing Scott had been stupid somehow.

Peter sneered. “Such a liar. No, I got a number of texts this afternoon from pack members who overheard Scott making plans with Miss Argent for a study date after school today. Four of them were within hearing distance of the conversation and Scott even literally ran into one of them afterward.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed. “Jackson!”

“He was right outside the door the entire time, Scott. And I know you were trying to keep it a secret, thus your lying to Stiles. But, even after six years, you barely use any of your Gifts that came with the Bite. You should have heard and recognized Jackson’s heartbeat, along with the other three who were nearby.”

Scott sniffed. “I don't like having them ramped up all the time. It makes stuff hard and I don’t want to shift in school.”

Peter nodded. “Even though after six years you should have better control, one would think you would have used your senses to scan this afternoon since you wanted to be so stealthy and deceitful about your little study session.”

Scott spun around with a growl and Stiles jerked back. Scott was partially transformed. “Dude, chill. I mean, the Argents are gonna be here pretty soon and you don’t want them to walk in to you all wolfed out, man. And it was kind of a dickish move, lying to me.”

Scott growled again but seemed to be fighting to get his shift under control. “You wouldn’t have let me be with Allison alone.”

Stiles nodded. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have. Mostly because you were ordered not to ask her out until things were settled.”

Scott’s partial shift faded, though his eyes still glowed. “It was a study session.”

Stiles looked at him with contempt. “I’m not stupid, Scotty. How much studying did you get done this afternoon? And put your damn headlights away, too.”

Scott’s eyes returned to their normal hue and he pouted. “None.”

Peter snorted. “He didn’t get any studying done because I was there when they arrived at the house. Not that I think he was going to try to anyway. Unless it was anatomy class, or maybe biology. Or sex ed. But he did let slip that he was planning on telling her all about the pack before ‘anything happened’. I have him here to sort things out with her parents. I don’t want them getting the idea that I have encouraged my idiot beta as some sort of revenge plot.”

Scott’s eyes flashed again but Peter flashed his and put a tone in his voice. “Go sit down and stay quiet until you’re needed, Scott.”

Scott shivered and his pout deepened but he turned away and went to sit down after a brief flashing of his neck that was so short it was more of an insult than an acknowledgement of submission to the alpha’s will. Stiles sighed and turned to Peter. “I’m sorry I just believed him without double checking what he told me. I just - he’s my best friend and I didn’t want to think he would play me like that.”

Peter placed his hand on Stiles shoulder. “He knows how to play you and he will if it suits him. And he knows how much you trust him. He used that.”

Stiles’ shoulders slumped. “Yeah. He did.”

Peter squeezed his shoulder and scented his arm. “Just be aware going forward that he doesn’t betray your trust again.”

“If I don’t give it to him, he can’t.”

“But can you keep yourself detached? He _is_ your best friend.”

Stiles scoffed. “Evidently _he_ doesn’t think that.”

Stiles turned away and made his way to his seat at the round table. It was on Peter’s direct left this time as Janet wasn’t here. Stiles’ dad was already seated to the right of Peter’s seat and Scott was slumped beside him. There was a space about two chairs wide and then the three empty seats for the three Argent family members, followed by another empty spot next to Stiles.

After only a few minutes, the door opened and Allison walked in, flanked by her father to her right and her mother to her left. Stiles found the sight fascinating. He was fairly certain it was a statement and not an accident on their part. He didn’t think Allison, the daughter would have been first through the door in a normal situation. But as a statement echoing a wolf pack’s structure, the ‘Alpha’, the future matriarch - or possibly that was the current one - flanked by her Right and Left Hands. 

As the Pack rose to their feet and Peter moved forward to greet their guests, Stiles could tell that the Alpha saw the mirrored structure as well. And a quick glance toward his dad showed that he understood the symbolism. And that Scott was clueless.

Peter stopped a few feet from the Argents and nodded. “Miss Argent, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

Allison smiled. “Hopefully, this is a productive meeting, Alpha Hale. May I introduce, my father Christopher and my mother Victoria.”

Peter inclined his head slightly. “Christopher, it has been quite some time. Victoria, a pleasure as always.”

Allison quirked an eyebrow and Chris stepped forward half a step to be equal on his daughter's right side, as Victoria did the same on her left. “I told you before we moved that I lived in Beacon Hills for several years, before and briefly after your mother and I married.”

Allison nodded. “I had forgotten.”

Victoria smiled tightly. “You were actually born in Beacon Hills, Allison. We moved when you were two and a half.”

Allison’s eyebrows went up but she didn’t say anything. After a few moments, Peter turned slightly to the side and slid back so the Argents’ view of the table and those around it was unimpeded.

“My Second, Noah Stilinski, Sheriff of Beacon County, his son, my pack’s emissary, Stiles Stilinski. And one of my betas, Scott McCall, who is here at your request, Miss Argent.”

Allison and her parents looked at the trio and nodded. Stiles noticed that Christopher was eying him in curiosity and Victoria’s eyes had a hard look at she stared at Scott. He wondered what Allison had told her parents about Scott and whatever had gone down this afternoon.

Peter stepped back to his spot at the table as the Argents took their seats and the pack members returned to their chairs. Once everyone was settled, Peter took the initiative and began.

“First, I would like to know if you have had any contact in the past two months with Kate Argent.”

Christopher blinked and shook his head. “I - No. That isn’t what I thought would be brought up. At least, not as a starter. But, no, I haven’t heard from Kate since mid-March. We’ve been interviewed on our knowledge of her whereabouts extensively, Peter.”

“By the FBI?”

Victoria nodded. “And Interpol. And the American Hunter Council and the European Hunter Council. We were called before the EHC in early summer. They were - unpleased by Kate’s actions.”

Noah sat forward. “Because her actions and the spotlight they brought to the hunters was bad for their freedom to do as they wished?”

Chris shook his head. “No. Well, partly. But more for her not just breaking the Code but utterly obliviating it. I know that the American Council isn’t as - strict about - policing - it’s members. But the European Council is different. And they actually have more power then the American Council. They could disband them or restructure them and the latter is actually in the works. I can’t and won’t get into all of it but the problems stem from some people getting power through blackmail, intimidation, and murder, or at least suspiciously convenient deaths. Several families’ matriarchs died within a two-year span and their heirs were all significantly underage. So, regents were appointed and took control. When the heirs came of age they were either figureheads or had been corrupted to the bone and followed the path of breaking the Code.”

Peter nodded. “Like Kate. And I presume the regent in question was Gerard?”

Chris nodded. “Yes. While we were in Europe, we were told that Allison was to be informed about the supernatural. We had been training her in tracking and shooting and living off the land, but in very mundane ways. We planned to tell her when she turned eighteen, but thanks to Kate, we had to move that up.”

Victoria sighed lightly. “May I ask why that was what you started with? We had been under the impression that you would want to know our intentions first.”

Stiles exchanged a look with Peter who nodded to him. “You can’t quite remember what Beacon Hills was like when you lived here before, can you, Mister Argent? You can’t recall why you lived here?”

“Chris, please, Emissary Stilinski.”

“Stiles, then.”

“Stiles. I - I don’t really recall. I know my father ordered me to live here but I don’t - when the European Council _suggested_ we take a step back until Kate’s mess is resolved and Allison is of age, we chose Beacon Hills because it was utterly quiet, supernaturally speaking.”

Peter barked a laugh. “You really don’t remember. You don’t recall meeting me, my sister, my brother-in-law?”

“Of course I do. Your sister was the district attorney for the county. But you weren’t a werewolf then.”

Peter’s eyes widened to a comic extent. “Christopher, I was born a werewolf. I became my sister’s Left Hand when I was nineteen. She had been Alpha for over a decade by then. And you knew that. The Hale Pack _founded_ Beacon Hills. And you knew that. You were a liaison between the hunters and our pack for the area for five years. Until your father sent you elsewhere.”

Chris blinked, his brow furrowed. “I - I can’t - no! I do remember that now. How did I forget? Victoria?”

Victoria shook her head. “I didn’t recall any of that until just now when Alpha Hale said it.”

Stiles whistled a note under his breath. “Well, I can somewhat explain. Six years ago, Kate Argent came to Beacon Hills, and using a fake name took a job as a substitute teacher at the high school. She used her position and knowledge to seduce a teenage member of the Hale Pack, the Alpha’s son, Derek. 

“And one night, during a full pack gathering for a full moon, she and her accomplices surrounded the Pack house with rings of mountain ash, including the basement escape tunnel, and set the house on fire using a chemical accelerant a chemist told her could burn stone and burn quick and hot. She added wolfsbane to this chemical agent and killed the vast majority of the pack, both werewolves, and humans. The youngest wasn’t even out of diapers. And was human. 

“Peter had been in the woods when the fire started and hid his young niece who had been playing until dinner time inside a hollow tree when he smelled the wolfsbane. When he tried to get to his family, his pack, he got caught between mountain ash circles and burned, badly enough to send him into a coma. 

“At the time, it was unknown who else wasn’t in the house, though we knew that night that someone survived. We know now, just found out a few days ago, as a matter of fact, but then we just knew that someone other than Peter and Cora lived. And they inherited the alpha spark.

“We knew about this, the entire town found out about werewolves and the supernatural that night because the inheritor of the Hale spark couldn’t handle it, not on top of the breaking of the pack bonds. They went feral and passed by a playground filled with children and no real adults. The Alpha proceeded to bite nine of those kids, none of them over the age of eleven. Seven of them survived the Bite and became werewolves. The other two also survived but became other than werewolves. 

“I was one of those kids and the Bite didn’t turn me. Rather it awakened my magical spark. And that night while in the hospital being treated for my wounds, Cora followed her new bonds and found me and my dad. She told us about werewolves when she understood what had happened and that hunters had killed her family. And while trying to console her, I inadvertently made a True Wish that saturated Beacon County and covered it with a spell to protect my new pack and the people we cared about. 

“It blunts the knowledge of the supernatural being here. Those who live here know about it but when they leave they can’t talk about it. They can’t even talk about it to someone outside the spell by phone or email or text. And anyone who has bad intentions, malicious intentions toward the pack or those we care about, can’t come here and if already here, are urged to leave town by the magic. 

“It only works on human and humanoid creatures but over the last six years it has kept us safe.”

Christopher’s eyes were wide and wild. “On the news, they said that a fire in a small Northern California town and the actions of the Sheriff there led to Kate’s identification. That was here, wasn’t it?” He looked at Noah. “And it was you.”

Noah nodded. “Myself, Peter, and Scott’s father, Rafe, who is an FBI agent.”

“I didn’t make the connection. Until now. I guess that’s the Magic’s doing.”

Stiles grinned. “Yep. Wish Magic is powerful stuff. And we still aren’t totally sure everything it does. I couldn’t create a spell to do everything this one does. Several spells that I would then have to layer together without canceling each other out, _maybe_. But not a single spell.”

Allison sat forward. “So, how did Peter become the Alpha? He wasn’t the one who inherited the spark, you said he was in a coma. But you recently learned who bit you. So, did he kill them and take back the Hale spark?”

Peter shook his head. “No. The Alpha who holds my family's spark is still alive and living where they ran to when they abandoned those they had bitten that night and left town. The recent news coverage of Kate brought my nephew, Derek, to town. He hadn’t even realized when he was scooped up by his elder sister, Laura, on her way out of town that the woman he was dating was the reason his family had died. Not until he saw her picture on the television. My eldest niece gained the Hale spark. And bit the town’s children, revealing the supernatural. Derek never even knew she had done that. They were already out of town when the spell went up and it cut off the pack bonds between her and the children.”

Allison nodded. “Okay. So, who did you inherit the spark from then?”

Peter grinned wryly. “The Earth? The Moon Lady? Magic itself? I was in a coma for six months, my healing almost glacial due to the wolfsbane with the burns and my system. And there were seven new preteen wolves, a preteen born wolf, a magic spark, and another preteen of a magical species. Plus several preteen humans who had been present in the playground but not bitten. And they all had pack bonds to one another but not to an alpha. They were all caught somewhere between beta and omega. The bonds to each other kept them from slipping entirely into omega feral behavior but they weren’t a pack, exactly, either.”

Stiles smiled. “We all knew that the Alpha who had bitten us had abandoned us and left us for dead or omegahood. We had limited information, only what Cora knew. And she was our age. Or what we could find in the internet, which was hit or miss and we had no way to distinguish the good from the bad, for the most part. Cora had told us how Peter had protected her the night of the fire and how he had been hurt trying to save his pack. To us, that was Alpha behavior, not the cowardice of the Alpha who bit us. So, one day, we basically gathered around Peter and petitioned Magic to make him our Alpha. I believed he was and should be and so did the rest and Magic agreed. He got an alpha spark and healed and woke up. And he’s been a great Alpha ever since.”

Peter smiled. “Thank you, Stiles.” He turned back to the Argents. “Over the past five and a half years, I’ve given the Bite to several adults with their consent, to balance out the pack dynamics. That’s how Noah became my second.”

Allison nodded. “I guess a pack made of nothing but preteens or teenagers except for the Alpha would be a bad idea.”

Peter snorted. “To say the least.”

Victoria leaned forward on the table. “Now that we have this knowledge again and that is settled, I would like to know why young Mister McCall is here.”

Peter nodded. “Allison asked me to be sure he was here. Scott had invited her to his house this afternoon, though he and the rest of the pack was told to wait to do anything with Allison until after tonight's meeting. It was realized a few days ago that she knew of the supernatural and we knew from the day she began school that she was from the Argent Hunter clan. We wanted no misunderstandings but frankly, Scott is a teenage boy, werewolf or not, and he doesn’t always do as he’s told.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes and turned to Scott, which had Stiles mentally bracing himself. “And why did you so disobey your Alpha? Why the impatience?”

Scott drew himself up from his previous slumped posture. “I really like Allison. She’s special. She’s so smart and kind, and she’s funny and caring and beautiful. I was going to tell her about the pack today. I didn’t want tonight’s meeting and Peter to ruin any chance I had with her, ma’am. Peter is prejudiced against hunters because of what happened six years ago to his family. But Allison would never do something like that, I know it. She’s too good a person.”

Allison blushed. “Scott invited me over to study and I didn’t know he liked me, too. But I would like to date him, see if we could work beyond being friends.”

Chris and Victoria shared a long look before Victoria looked away. Chris smiled a tight smile. “I suppose we can give it a chance, if Scott’s parents and his Alpha agree to it as well, but there will be ground rules you both need to follow.”

Scott nodded. “I understand, Mister Argent. I would never want to hurt Allison.”

Peter’s body was tense next to Stiles. “I will have rules for you to follow, too, Scott. And you _will_ accept them if you want this chance.”

Scott nodded and sat back, a smug look on his face.

Peter turned to the Argents once more. “Before we conclude this meeting, I would like to know the likelihood of your father coming to visit, Christopher.”

Chris swallowed “Oh. Of course, you don’t know. My father is dead. He had stage 4 cancer and a few months ago, he came up with a plot to force an Alpha to give him the Bite to cure him, and then he planned to kill them and take their spark. He blackmailed the pack’s emissary, a veterinarian, into helping him ambush the alpha. But the emissary, while not powerful magically, wasn’t cowed as much as Gerard thought. He had used his connections to have Gerard’s cancer medications switched out with mountain ash. And when Gerard forced the alpha to give him the Bite, it didn’t take.”

Victoria took up the tale. “But it didn’t kill him. Gerard had been taking moon-flowered wolfsbane to insure he wouldn’t reject the Bite. But the mountain ash in his system did interact badly with the Bite and he was incapacitated. And several agents from the European Council showed up. Apparently, one of Gerard’s trusted minions didn’t care for his plan and notified them, knowing the American Council wouldn’t stop him. While he was unable to move, the agents passed sentence and cut him in half to prevent him from overcoming the mountain ash and turning. And it was that which began the EHC looking into the AHC and their doings which snowballed with Kate’s actions coming out.”

Peter smiled. “Well, he was hoist on his own petard. Poetic justice at its finest. I _am_ sorry for your loss, however, Christopher. He was your father, no matter how evil he was.”

Chris shook his head. “Don’t be. I haven’t had any true positive feelings for my father since before my mother’s death, which I suspect he orchestrated if not outright participated in. And he was never a very good father before that, either.”

Peter inclined his head. And after a few more minutes of manners, the meeting came to a close. The Argents left and Scott hurried out after them. Stiles waited around and when his dad questioned him, he told him he needed to speak to Peter about the research he was doing about his dream wish magic. Noah left the two alone and Peter and Stiles spoke about his trippy trip to the Nemeton.

“I think I recognize most of the ingredients you described. They are things you need for a summoning ritual. They vary by type depending on what you want to summon, but the basics are the same.”

“Ever since I left the Preserve, I’ve felt increasingly antsy. I want to do this ritual as soon as I can. I _need_ to do it. I think I’ll be summoning whatever pushed that dream on me. And I need to understand, I just - it’s a compulsion. And I know it isn’t truly natural, it is magically induced, but it doesn’t negate the increasing urgency I am feeling.”

Peter nodded and gave Stiles a hug. “Stop by the house on your way home and I’ll, give you the book you need to read to understand what you have to do. I don’t think the exact ritual will be in there but the basic forms are the same as long as you aren’t summoning the infernal. Which you aren’t because the imagery in your vision quest would have been _far_ different, far darker if that was the case. No demons involved.”

Stiles wrapped himself tightly around Peter, relaxing. “Thank you, Alpha.”

** **Section Four: Dating Fails 101 by Scott McCall** **

Scott was thrilled at getting the better of Peter. Allison had chosen his side, just as she should. And now he was sitting in her car as she drove them from the movie theater. They had just gone to see a movie and now they were on their way to dinner. 

Of course, it would be better if her were driving but he would wait until their third date to insist on that. Allison wouldn’t mind. She’d prefer it, he was sure. Not to have the pressure of having to worry about the cars and traffic and lights. Scott would handle all of that.

Allison did let him pay for the movie and their snacks. Scott had wanted to share a popcorn but Allison wanted to have nachos. Scott hated eating nachos at the movies. They were too messy. He’d have to explain that to Allison so she would understand and change that. His way was the best and she would have to agree since she had used seven napkins while eating her nachos.

Scott hoped that her choice at dinner made more sense. He didn’t want to order for her. But he would if she needed him to. Allison was smart enough to know that Scott was her soulmate and knew the best for them.

Ten minutes later they were seated across from each other and looking at the menus. Scott pulled his down and grinned over the top. Allison was biting her lip as she looked over the choice. 

Scott cleared his throat. “You should get the salmon or the halibut. Unless you’re in the mood for a salad instead. You’d enjoy the grilled chicken Caesar salad.”

Allison lowered the menu and blinked. “Oh, are those the house specialties? I’ve never been here before. Which one are you getting?”

Scott shook his head. “I’m getting the steak. And a baked potato and onion rings and honey-glazed carrots. They do them really well and my mom never gets them right when she tries to make them.”

Allison frowned. “Oh. That sounds good. Without the onion rings, though. But maybe I could get some sour cream and cheese on the potato.”

Scott tilted his head. “You shouldn’t have steak. You’re a girl. Have the fish, it’s light and airy and delicate, like you.”

“Oh. Um, thanks, I guess. That’s sort of sweet. But I don’t like broiled fish, the taste is too strong. I prefer it grilled on an open flame or fried. And, you know I’m not really delicate, right? I mean, I know I only just learned about this stuff a few months ago but I’ve been trained in weapons and tracking and stealth since I was in preschool.”

Scott nodded. “Right, but you don’t have to do that anymore. You’re here in Beacon Hills and everything is peaceful and all. You don’t have to get into hunting. Just be the sweet girl that you are inside.”

Allison’s face screwed up in an odd way like she was thinking about something unpleasant. Oh, he’d likely made her think about her poor aunt, on the run for her hunting.

“Um, Scott, I _want_ to take up the mantle of my family and protect those who can’t protect themselves. I explained my ideas for a new Code to the European Council when I learned about the old one and how it was twisted and broken so easily. And the French branch of my family agree with me and every summer I’ll be going there to train with them so I can be ready to be matriarch and lead the American Argent clan when I graduate college. I mean, until then I won’t be _actively_ hunting. Not unless something comes _here_ , to the county or nearby. But I will still be training. I hope that down the line, Alpha Hale will permit me to train with your pack.”

Scott frowned. He began to answer her but the waiter came over to take their orders. Scott went first and ordered what he had told Allison he would. And before she could speak, he smiled at the waiter. “And she’ll have a grilled chicken Caesar salad, light on the dressing.”

When he looked over at her, Allison’s mouth was open, probably impressed at his initiative and figuring out what she wanted.

Allison stopped the waiter before he could leave. “Actually, I’d like a New York strip, medium rare, with a baked potato with cheese and sour cream, please. And a side of cheesy spinach.”

The waiter looked down his nose at Scott and smiled at Allison. “Yes, Miss.”

As the waiter walked away, Scott huffed. “Why’d you do that? That was rude. I ordered what you liked, not the fish. You said you liked grilled stuff and I had said you should get the grilled chicken caesar salad. So, I ordered you that. And you just bullied me in front of the waiter.”

Allison shone her head, “ _You_ were the one who was rude, Scott. And presumptuous, at that. I said I preferred my _fish_ grilled or fried. I didn’t say anything about chicken or a salad. And I _said_ that what you were ordering sounded good except for the onion rings. Now, I don’t want to get into a fight, so I’m excusing myself. I’ll be in the ladies room, so don’t follow me.”

Scott sat abandoned at the table and chewed on the straw in his soda as he glared at Allison’s empty seat. She wasn’t making sense. And she hadn’t thought her future through the way she should have. 

Scott was trying to keep her healthy. She wasn’t a wolf yet, she couldn’t handle lots of fats and sugars and carbs. She’d gain weight and be ugly. And her scent would be affected, too. Scott couldn’t bear that. Her base scent was so wonderful, intoxicating, and awesome. 

If Scott thought the jerk would listen, he’d go get the waiter and fix her order back to what it should be. But that jerk wanted her, Scott saw the look in his eye when he looked at her when she ordered, and he wouldn’t listen since Allison inadvertently made him look like a fool. And the guy wanted to steal her from Scott.

Someday, Allison would be able to eat what she wanted when she got the Bite. But for now, Scott would have to guide her. She was just nervous, worried about their first date, and about how the pack and Peter had tried to keep them apart.

Scott set his drink down as he heard Allison approach. She slid into her seat and took a sip of her soda. Her pulse was slower but her smell was off, bitter notes filling the air.

The waiter brought their food and as Allison cut her steak, Scott reached across the table to touch her hand. “I was being a good boyfriend and anticipating your needs.”

Allison sighed and pulled her hand back from his. “You’ve never had a girlfriend before, have you? Not even a practice one in like middle school or something.”

Scott shook his head and smiled. “Of course not, sweetheart. I was waiting for you.”

Allison’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled sweetly. “Okay, Mister Romantic, I’ll try to go easier on you. Give you the benefit of the doubt. I just - I’ve had guys be really pushy and rude when we dated. It was hard, you know, I didn’t have the years of history and just was always the new girl. And to lots of guys, the new girl is the new target.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed as he chewed his steak. “How many other guys have you dated?”

Allison swallowed a bite of her baked potato. “Um, I’ve been on nineteen dates but never ‘dated’ someone, if you know what I mean. I went out with various guys but was always moving before it could go anywhere.”

“Huh. Well, no more dates with anyone but me. I know other guys are interested but we’re together, we beat the people who tried to keep us apart and our future is bright.”

Allison chuckled. “No worries, Scott. I wouldn’t cheat on you. I’ve never dated more than one guy at a time. And right now, I am with you”

Scott nodded decisively as he finished his plate of food. “I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. You’re my soulmate. We’re going to be together forever.”

Allison smiled but her mouth was kind of shaking. She was definitely overcome with emotion. 

He paid the bill as Scott convinced Allison that dessert wasn’t a good idea, he’d grab some ice cream when he got home. Scott walked Allison out of the restaurant, his arm around her shoulder. She was stiff under his touch, nervous, but he knew she would melt, soon enough. 

“It isn’t near your curfew yet. Let’s go for a drive and talk.”

Allison smiled as she slid into the driver's seat. “I’d like that. Get to know you, properly. I think we were both a little on edge in public and worried about people hearing us.”

Scott wasn’t sure what she meant but shrugged it off. Girls were sometimes weird in how their thoughts ran. Just look at his mom. Or Lydia. Erica and Cora didn’t count, they were never _not_ weird.

——

Scott directed Allison into the Preserve, down a road that led to the back way to the memorial but had a turnoff to an old cabin about half a mile before it joined the main driveway. 

When they parked, Scott took Allison by the hand and led her inside. He had the key because he had been the last one responsible for stocking it within emergency supplies in case of creature attack. 

Scott sat next to Allison on the futon and brushed her hair back from her face. “You’re so beautiful. I love your smile. I’m going to make sure you have lots of reasons to smile.”

Allison grinned. “I’d like that. Let’s try not to fight, okay. I don’t like being mad at you.”

Scott nodded. “Deal.” 

And he leaned in, his lips meeting hers as she leaned forward. The kiss soon turned from sweet to heated and Scott laid her back on the futon mattress. He ran his hands up and down her sides and hers ran through his hair. He felt himself losing control and allowed his eyes to glow. 

Allison stiffened but Scott deepened the kiss and his hand began to slide under her top. Allison put her hand over her shirt but in his way and turned her head. “No, Scott. I don’t think we’re ready to go that far. This is just our first date.”

Scott leaned over her and moved her face with his hand so he could see who eyes. “The first of many, so why does it matter. I won’t tell our kids what happened on our first date if you don’t.”

“Kids?”

Scott nodded. “Of course. You’re my soulmate, my everything. And we’re gonna get married and have lots of babies. I know you haven’t thought everything through yet. You _obviously_ can’t lead your clan. The Council killed your grandfather just because he wanted to be a werewolf to cure his cancer. So, you can’t accept the Bite and still be a Hunter. But don’t worry, you’ll be my Second when I’m alpha.”

Allison’s breath hitched. “You’re planning to be an alpha? Are you going to kill Peter Hale? Or someone else?”

Scott shook his head. “I won’t have to kill anyone. Peter will run afoul of someone before long. And the spark will come to me. I’m the best choice. The only real choice, really. So, I’ll be alpha and I’ll give you the Bite, ‘cause I know you want it so you can be with me. And you won’t have to hunt or try to control people. And you’ll have my kids and everyone will be happy.”

Allison pushed against Scott’s chest. “Scott, it’s getting late. Let me drive you home. I think you’re really tired.”

Scott leaned down and kissed Allison’s lips. “You’re so caring. But we have tine. My house is an eight-minute drive from here and then yours is ten from mine. We don’t have to leave for another half an hour. And if you let me take your car and drive you, instead, we have an extra five minutes beyond that.”

Allison blinked up at him. “Do you even have a license?”

Scott shrugged. “I took driver’s ed but didn’t pass the first time. I forgot my seatbelt and they automatically failed me even though I don’t need it because of my werewolf healing.”

Allison pushed his chest again. “No, I’ll drive. I - wouldn’t want you to get pulled over.”

“So considerate of others.” Scott pecked her lips and then slid his tongue inside. Allison pushed at him. 

“What?”

“I want to go home now, Scott. Let’s go get in the car.”

Scott sat up and let Allison get to her feet. He grinned at her back as she walked in front of him out of the cabin. He locked the door and thought about how lucky he was to have such a kinky girlfriend who wanted to be a proper teenager and get it on in her car.

As Scott slid into the passenger’s seat, a few minutes behind as Allison had been slow to unlock the door, she was closing the glove compartment. Scott figured she mistakenly thought that unlocking her door had unlocked his. And he bet she had condoms in there. He would have to tell her that as a werewolf he couldn’t get an STD. Plus, he’d never been with anyone else. He was ready to climb into the back and he tugged on Allison’s arm to nudge her where she needed to go.

Allison put the key into the ignition and turned it. “Oh, good idea. Mood music on the radio. Come one, darling, climb over the seat. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What are you talking about, Scott. I’m driving you home.”

Scott tilted his head. “I just want to be clear. Are you role-playing the reluctant virgin or the naive small-town girl?”

Allison's wide eyes glimmered in the low light. “Neither. Scott, I’m not playing a game. I'm going to drive you home and I think you need to really think about what happened tonight, what you said, what you did. I don’t think we should date unless or until you get your head on straight.”

Scott pursed his lips. “Hmm. Okay. So, reluctant virgin.”

“Scott. I said no!”

Scott nodded. “That’s the game.”

“I’m not playing a game. I am serious.” Allison put the car into gear and Scott leaned over to kiss her. Allison swung her arm at him and hit his nose, hard. Scott heard something crack. She leaned over him and shoved the door open and while he was off-balance, she pushed him out onto the dirt.

“No means no, Scott.”

Scott was bewildered. “But you’re attracted to me, I can smell it.”

“I’m sure I smell the same when I see Robert Downey, Jr. That doesn’t mean I would have sex with him. And I think you should sniff again because I sure am not feeling attracted to you right now. Your good looks are overshadowed by your utter insanity.”

Scott got to his knees and leaned into the open car door. “I don’t understand. We’re soulmates, Allison. We’re meant to be. Forever.” 

Scott put his hand on her leg. Allison jerked away and pulled something out of her pocket. It was a canister of pepper spray. He jerked back and fell onto the dirt again as he tried to escape the stream.

“You can walk home, Scott.”

——

Scott sat on his ass on the dirt road as he watched Allison drive away, utterly confused. Things had been going pretty well. Okay, so she got upset at him at the restaurant because she was confused. But she calmed down and agreed to spend time alone with him. And she was enjoying herself. She kissed him at the same time as he kissed her. And, yeah, she said they were going fast but her scent told him she was really horny. She was just nervous, probably not wanting him to think she was a slut if she slept with him on their first date.

But when he tried to explain, she got all upset again. It was baffling. She blew hot and cold but she wanted to have sex with him. He could smell it. Why would she back off even when he explained it didn’t matter if it was early in their relationship since they were going to be together forever and get married?

And she was really weird all night. Well, things were okay during the drive to the movie theater, in line for tickets and concessions, waiting in the theater for the movie to begin, and then during the movie. They held hands once she’d gotten the nacho cheese off of hers. But then the movie ended, she went to the ladies room and they drove to the restaurant where things started to have problems. 

Something must have happened in the ladies’ room at the movies. Or on the walk there or back. To get to it, you went down a hallway and turned the corner down another hallway. Scott knew because the men’s room was the same but after the first hallway, you turned left instead of right for the second hallway. So someone must have been down there and done something or said something to her. 

Now, it could have been Stiles. His magic could have warped her reactions if he wanted it to. But he would have no reason to do it. Just because he was mad that Scott had lied to him about the detention. Stiles would get over it. Unless the problem was that Stiles wanted Allison for himself. But Scott didn’t smell heavy attraction on Stiles when Allison was nearby or when Scott talked about her. So, no, Stiles wouldn’t use his magic to ruin Scott’s relationship.

But Peter. Peter must have been down that hallway. He must have used his Alpha mojo on her. Allison was wearing her hair pulled back from her face but kind of flowing down her back and it covered her neck. Scott didn’t think to look. He didn’t smell blood but there might not have been any to smell if Peter was careful. And the bastard would be careful when he tried to ruin Scott’s life. As if his family hadn’t done enough.

But Allison kept changing her mind. She was so strong, her mind fought off Peter’s evil influence. She was going to be the most awesome werewolf and mom. So protective. She didn’t even lace her pepper spray with wolfsbane. She knew it wouldn’t hurt him for long without it. 

Scott got to his feet and began running through the Preserve towards Allison’s house. He needed to check in on her and make sure she was alright and still fighting Peter’s orders. And he could tell her parents about it. And with them not thinking werewolves like Peter were actually more than animals, they could take care of him without the magic interfering and then Allison would be safe and the pack would be in Scott’s hands. Even the sheriff would agree, even though Scott would pick Allison as his Second. Sheriff Stilinski always said Scott was a good influence on Stiles and Stiles was a bad influence on Scott.

Within a couple of minutes, Scott was in the now familiar tree and looking in Allison’s window. He didn’t see her. She wasn’t in bed. Scott listened for her heartbeat or voice and heard it on the first floor. She was just saying goodnight to her parents.

“So, I can’t say I’ll never date a werewolf or someone supernatural, especially considering the size of the pack I’ll be going to high school with for the next two years, but it won’t be soon. And it definitely won’t ever be Scott McCall.”

Scott’s eyes widened and he cursed under his breath. Peter’s alpha head thing was working. Too well. 

Scott slid to the end of branch he was on and leapt for the house, landing in Allison’s window ledge. The window wouldn’t open. It was locked. Scott could force it with. I problem but it would be loud and bring her parents running. And considering Scott didn’t know what she told them when she was swayed by Peter’s alpha thing, he couldn’t take the chance. 

Scott jumped to the roof and waited. He heard Allison getting changed and ready for bed and about twenty minutes after that her parents were upstairs doing the same thing. When he heard some sleepy breathing and three calm heartbeats, Scott slid down to the window ledge again but this time it was one on the first floor. The kitchen window was the furthest from Allison’s parents’ bedroom and should work best.

Scott popped his claws and dug them under the window, using his strength to force the window open bit by bit.

After five minutes, the window was open and it hadn’t made much noise. Scott slid into the room across the sill and suddenly the room was brightly lit, there was a siren blaring and he was arching in pain as he felt electricity course though his body.

Within seconds, Allison’s mother ran into the room and Scott screamed in pain for another reason - the arrow sticking out of his thigh.

——

Scott sat on a chair, tied down with wolfsbane rope and gagged in the Argent’s living room. He’d been tied up in the basement for what Scott thought was hours, the taser off but the arrow still in his leg. They only pulled it out when they brought him upstairs, tied to the same chair as he had been all night.

Peter was across the room with Sheriff Stilinski and Allison’s parents. Scott’s Mom and even his Dad were in the group talking lowly. Scott couldn’t hear them because he had white noise generating headphones over his head.

Scott struggled weekly against the ropes binding him. Where was Allison? What had Peter done to her now to keep her away? She had to know that her parents had attacked him. But Scott couldn’t smell her in the house.

Eventually, Scott’s Mom came and took the headphones off Scott’s head. Her eyes were red and her cheeks had dried tear tracks on them. And her heartbeat was faster than normal. 

She looked down at him, frowning. “Alright, Scott. Some decisions have been made and we’re going to tell them to you. And before we get started I just want to say that I cannot believe that you are the son I raised. I am so disappointed in your behavior.”

Peter stood in front on Scott as his Mom moved away to stand next to his Dad. Maybe she’d finally gotten over her snit and they’d get back together. That would be one in the eye for Peter who Scott knew always wanted his Mom.

Peter sneered at Scott and sat on a chair placed where Scott was on eye level with him. “I’m going to leave the gag on for now because I don’t care to hear the drivel that you regularly spew until I’m done. This way, you can’t interrupt. I warned you what would happen if you stepped over the line again. I warned you that you were coming close to a severe punishment. I went easy on you about the Argent situation and your lies because Allison asked me to. She wanted me to give you the benefit of the doubt, something she now greatly regrets. You have proven that the Pack cannot trust you, Scott McCall. You have proven multiple times that your own wants and desires are more important to you than that of the Pack or our allies. As Alpha of the Hale Pack, I hereby banish you from Beacon Hills.”

Scott struggled in his bonds and looked over at his Mom. 

Peter leaned over and interrupted his line of sight as Scott’s Mom slid so she was behind him. “I would have no problem declaring you a full omega and leaving you to find your own way - which would likely lead to death by Hunters in short order. 

“However, out of respect for your parents and the things they have done for me and the Pack, I have found you a place outside of Beacon Hills. To the normal world, you will be in the custody of your father in Los Angeles. 

“In reality, you will be living with and under the authority of the Placido Pack and their Alpha. Your father will drive you there on his way back home today. You will live in their compound, in the hills near Los Angeles, you will be homeschooled in their compound. If you behave, you will be allowed to have your parents visit on weekends - at their compound. Alpha Placido is incredibly strict with his pack. And he knows everything that has gone on here. He will not put up with your entitled behavior and his pack is your last chance. If you get kicked out of his pack, you will be omega and alone. Hopefully, your new pack will be able to teach you to be a good wolf and a good person.”

Scott’s Dad walked over to him and undid the gag. He held it in his hand and sighed. “Do you have anything to say for yourself, Scott?”

“Where’s Allison? She wouldn’t let you do this to me! She’s fighting your alpha thing you did to her!”

Peter looked at him, his eyebrows raised. “What in the world are you talking about, McCall?”

“Last night, you ambushed her in the hallway at the movie theater and used your claws in her neck to try and turn her against me.”

“And did she tell you this?”

Scott shook his head. “No, I figured it out. You were sneaky but it was the only thing that made sense.”

“And did she have claw marks on her neck?”

Scott scowled. “I didn’t think to look until after she left me at the cabin. I was coming here to help her when her parents tried to kill me.”

Allison’s Mom stepped forward. “There were no claw marks on Allison’s neck and Peter Hale was not at the movie theater last night. He was in town at a business dinner with a dozen witnesses.”

Scott gaped. “Then it must have been Stiles’ magic, after all. I never thought he would betray me like this.”

Allison’s Dad rolled his eyes. “The only one who turned my daughter against you was you. With your own actions and words.”

Scott shook his head. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Scott’s Mom burst out, “You assaulted her! You would have raped her!”

Scott’s eyes widened. “I would never! I love Allison. She’s my soulmate and you can’t keep us apart. I didn’t assault her. She was just as into it as I was.”

Allison’s Mom growled. “You forced a kiss on her when she turned away and you wouldn’t let her up.”

Scott blushed. “I know you don’t want to hear things about you little girl, Mrs. Argent but we were playing a sex game. Allison wanted me. I could smell it.”

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. “People smell of attraction all the time. People even often smell of arousal. But that is simply a physiological response to some type of stimulus. Not a free pass to assault them.”

Scott looked at Peter, confused, and the man rolled his eyes with his whole head. “Smelling of arousal is a body response. The mind can still say no. The body and hormones may put forth arousal, but that doesn’t mean the mind isn’t in control of what happens. And if the mind is impaired then it is rape, Scott. Consent is important and can be withdrawn at any time during an encounter. And consenting to one thing doesn’t mean you have blanket consent to do whatever you feel like.”

“Allison is my soulmate and when her parents figure out how evil you and your family are, they’ll kill you, since they didn’t think you’re more than an animal. And then the alpha spark will come to me. And the pack will be better. Now, what did you do to Allison?”

Peter shook his head. “We felt that she shouldn’t have to be here to see you after what you did and your delusions about her. She decided she didn’t want to confront you, so she is elsewhere, _by her choice._ ”

Scott shook his head. “Allison is mine. She loves me, she’ll remember when Stiles’ spell wears off.”

Scott’s Mom shook her head. “Stiles didn’t cast a spell on Allison. She just realized how horrible you are.” She sniffled. “And she doesn’t love you. And you don’t love her. You’re obsessed with her. You barely know her. You only met just over a week ago.”

Peter’s lip curled at a corner. “And you aren’t soulmates. That’s just a literary concept of poets, romance writers, playwrights, and fanfiction writers. You act like you’re in Twilight with yourself cast as a werewolf Edward. You’re not. You aren’t a star-crossed lover. You’re a creep who doesn’t understand what no means. And has no desire to try to understand. Christopher, if you please.”

Scott jerked back as Allison’s Dad came over with a syringe. He found a vein in Scott’s arm and Scott squirmed as the injection burned and then everything went black. His last thought as unconsciousness claimed him was that Allison would find him and help him get his revenge.

** **Section Five: Family Trees and Destinies** **

It was nearly midnight on the night of the new moon and Stiles was sitting in the middle of the park area in the Pack Housing Development. Normally this area was used for barbecues and picnics and touch football and basketball pickup games and frisbee. Stiles loved - used to love tossing a frisbee at Scott and praising him with phrases like ‘such a good boy’ and ‘good doggie’ when he caught it. Stiles really missed his best friend and couldn’t believe what had happened three weeks ago. But at the same time, it didn’t actually surprise Stiles in the least. 

Stiles had known Scott since they still had to hold a grown up’s hand when they crossed the street. And Scott had always been all about Scott. No one else really recognized it and brushed it off when Scott was caught at something. Or people would assume it was Stiles’ idea or entirely Stiles’ doing and Scott wasn’t involved or was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And Scott never took responsibility for his actions, unless he got rewarded for them. And he never admitted to a mistake or any wrongdoing, even if he was caught red-handed. And Scott never took the fall for Stiles and never told the truth when people blamed Stiles for something Scott did and got in trouble for it.

It was only in the past few weeks that Stiles and Jackson had made peace. The pack - mostly just the teens - had been sitting around, talking about the Scott scandal. And Stiles had been talking about how he could totally see Scott doing exactly what Allison claimed and reacting the exact way for the exact reasons Scott claimed. 

Stiles brought up several examples from their childhood and one of the ones he mentioned in passing was Jackson's allergic reaction that nearly killed him. Stiles hadn’t realized Jackson had thought it was Stiles’ fault and believed it had been mostly an accident. Stiles explained that he had figured out a few weeks after the incident what Scott had done and why. But when Stiles tried to bring it up, since he felt that Scott had been really over the line, no one would listen, or believe him.

Stiles and Jackson were in a much better place in their developing friendship now. And Stiles’ Dad had apologized sincerely for not listening and brushing him off about things not always being Stiles’ fault. And Mister Whittemore also asked for forgiveness for how he always treated Stiles with suspicion. He had been told that Stiles had been responsible for Jackson’s getting hurt and assumed it had been somewhat deliberate.

But none of that had anything to do with why Stiles was sitting in the middle of the little park area. He was seated inside a chalk circle drawn on the basketball court surface. The symbols ringing the circle were the same runes ringing the bracelet given to him by the Nemeton.

In the center of the circle was a brazier and Stiles was burning various herbs and flowers and stuff in it. And the fire itself was using two specific types of wood. Stiles coated the brazier with oils and pricked his finger and dripped seven drops of his blood on the burning flora. 

Peter’s book had been very general as none of the rituals had matched but still quite helpful. The odd thing about what he had been shown by the Nemeton was that the ingredients came from two very different areas of the world. Granted everything was from Europe, but several of the flowers were found only in the United Kingdom - other than greenhouses and stuff - and others were only found in Eastern Europe in the Slovenia area - other than those deliberately cultivated elsewhere. And the same thing applied to the two types of firewood he was using, and the oils. At least one of each was native to the British Isles, and at least one to Eastern Europe. 

Peter had pointed that oddity out to Stiles and no matter how they worked it, they couldn’t come up with a definite answer on why nor were they clear on who this ritual would summon. It wouldn't be a demonic entity. There was no living sacrifice. The few drops of blood wouldn’t be enough for that. 

The only thing they knew for sure was that Stiles would be safe in his area of the circle and whatever was summoned would not be able to leave its area of the circle or cross the chalk line that made the circle and bisected the center of it.

When the last drop of blood fell, Stiles felt a build up of power. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck raised and his chest felt heavy. He could tell he wasn’t really powering this ritual, he was more a conduit for the power to flow through. It was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure.

The smoke from the brazier began deepening and clouding the circle. The small amount of flora he used should have burned out long before the smoke could get his thick. But Stiles wasn’t sure the rules of physics were applying here right now. He wasn’t sure time actually existed inside this circle, at least not in the same way as it normally did. 

After what felt like both an eternity and a second, the smoke pulled back to form a dome inside the chalk circle and to a height of about twelve feet. No one outside would be able to see in and penetrate the thick foggy smoke barrier. Even the normal nighttime nature noises were not just muffled as they had been previously, but absent entirely.

And when the smoke lifted to form this dome, Stiles saw inside the center of the other half of the circle two figures. They appeared male and they towered over the seated teen. 

Stiles stared up at them and debated whether he should get to his feet or remain seated. On the one hand, while he was seriously intimidated, he wasn’t really of a mind to make that clear or obvious to the things he had summoned. On the other hand, not only would standing make him more comfortable psychologically, but it may be considered more polite. And suddenly Stiles really didn’t want to come off as an impolite asshole. He scrambled to his feet awkwardly.

“Uh, hello. I’m Stiles. The, uh, Nemeton told me to summon you. Sorry if you were in the middle of something.”

The man on the left inclined his head, his red hair almost shining in the light of the campfire, it was such a bright shade. “We know who you are, Mieczysław. To some extent, you could say that we summoned you to summon us.”

The man on the right smiled. His hair was dark, nearly pitch black in the uncertain light but his skin was a deep tan that seemed to glow from within. “We have kept watch over you since you were born, my child. You are something quite special.”

Stiles eyes widened and he fought not to stumble backwards. “Oh, so you sent me the dream? Thanks for that.”

The dark-haired man shrugged his shoulders, the fur cape he was wearing rippling as if alive. “We did not direct it, like some puppet master on a stage. We simply pushed for circumstances to occur that would lead you use your power in a way that would lead you to us in the end.”

The redhead smiled. “We do apologize for the distress you were caused but it was necessary that we speak and reveal things to you, young Mieczysław.”

The dark-haired man looked at the other with irritation. “The first time I let pass because it was a good way to reveal we knew his true name. But now, you’re just being a prat, showing off your ability with the language and thus the correct pronunciation.”

“You can pronounce it, too. After all, the language is from your general region.”

“Yes, I can. However, it is rude as he prefers his chosen name over the one gifted him at birth.”

The red-haired man tilted his head to the side for a few moments before he nodded and turned his attention back to Stiles. “My apologies. I was being rude. I am accustomed to being around beings known by multiple names when in this realm. Even myself.”

Stiles nodded. “Forgiven. Just out of curiosity and so I can stop referring to you in my head by your hair colors, may I have the knowledge of one of those names used for yourselves while in this realm?”

The dark-haired man chuckled. “He’s such a smart one. So quick and such a sharp tongue.” He turned to Stiles and have a short bow. “You may call me Jarnik Jarilo.”

The other gave the same depth of bow and smiled. “I am often known as Gwynn ap Nudd to those I interact with in this realm and others.”

Jarnik grinned, lots of teeth showing. “You may call us Jarnik and Gwynn, unless and until Pradziadek and Dziadek feel more comfortable and right.”

“Or, perhaps you would prefer to use Hen Daid and Taid for us.” Gwynn grinned and it seemed like he was trying not to laugh.

Stiles closed his dropped open mouth. “I - uh, I don’t speak, is that Welsh? Gaelic?”

Jarnik huffed a laughter-like sound. “Which is why I chose Polish which I know you do know somewhat rather than Slovenian which is closer to my more known area of influence, which would be Pradedek and Dedek. Do feel free to use those if you wish, Stiles.”

Stiles nodded. “Uh, I would probably stick to Polish for now. Or, you know, English. Um, which one of you is Pradziadek?”

Jarnik waved. “I am your Pradziadek, Hen Daid, Pradedek, or Great-Grandfather, as you prefer.”

Stiles blew out a breath. “So, I’ve read mythology and stuff extensively, like a lot, a lot a lot. From like all over the world. And I know that myths have Gwynn ap Nudd in Wales and Britain and is known as the god of the underworld in fairy. And Jarnik or Jarilo is from Slovenia and is the god of youthful life force among other things and is sometimes called the Wolf Herdsmen. But I never found a myth, legend, tale, story, or rumor that Jarnik was the father of Gwynn ap Nudd.”

The two beings laughed loudly. After several minutes, Gwynn got control of himself first. “That would be because it is not so. You leapt over a few conclusions, Stiles. Can you think of no way that I could be your grandfather and Jarnik could be your great-grandfather without the two of us being father and son?”

Stiles could feel himself blushing and hoped the dim light hid it. “Right. Well, Jarnik’s child could have married you or at least had a child with you. And that child was one of my parents?”

Jarnik shook his head. “No. It is more distant than that. And from opposite sides, as it were.”

Stiles gaped. “Oh! One of you is related to me on my mother’s side and one on my father’s side.”

Jarnik smiled. “I am your father’s mother’s father.”

Gwynn nodded. “Yes. I had the honor of being the biological father of your late mother, Claudia.”

Stiles frowned. “Mom always said she named me after her father. But it isn’t even close.”

Gwynn looked sad. “This is because Claudia was adopted, though she knew it not. I was unable to care for her, I could not take her to my realm and her biological mother died giving birth to her. Claudia’s adoptive parents took her in and adopted her when she was only hours old. And her father was indeed named Mieczysław, a young Polish man married to a Welsh girl and visiting her family when Claudia was born.”

Stiles blinked. “Okay. So, on Dad’s side I have his father who is Polish.”

Jarnik nodded. “Yes. And your preferred nickname is also the one he uses.”

“Huh. So, named at birth for my  _ maternal _ grandfather - as far as Mom knew - and took a name for myself that is the name my  _ paternal _ grandfather took as his own. Interesting coincidence. And Dad’s mother was half Polish and half - demigod? Half nature spirit?”

Jarnik smiled. “Your paternal grandmother was half human and half fae. And yes her mother, my lover, was Polish.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay, so from that I am half Dad so three-quarters Polish on his side and one-quarter fae.”

“Yes.”

“And on Mom’s side, I am half Welsh - not Polish like we thought. And half - is it fae again?”

Gwynn nodded. “Yes, I am fae. And my lover was a human who lived in Wales though she was not so generalized in her own ancestry. She was British.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay, like most kids in this country whose family have lived here for at least a couple of generations, they’re American.”

Gwynn smiled. “Exactly. May I ask your thought process that makes this relevant, Stiles?”

Stiles waved his hands around. “I’m trying to figure out how much supernatural creature - um - fae, I am biologically. So half-fae from Mom’s half would be one-quarter fae and one-quarter fae on Dad’s half would be one eighth overall. So one quarter plus one eighth is three-eighths fae. But my mother was half-fae, so how am I powerful more than her?”

Gwynn sighed. “There are several things that tie into that. For one, as Claudia did not know she was adopted she didn’t understand when her fae magic would do things. She suppressed it and ultimately rejected her magic. And -“

Stiles looked down. “That’s what killed her, isn’t it? That’s why she got sick?”

Gwynn nodded sadly. “In a roundabout manner, yes.”

Stiles swallowed hard. “What else?”

Jarnik crossed his hands behind his back. “Well, you are from two very distinct lines of fae. And - well, you have a destiny, Stiles.”

Gwynn nodded. “Yes. When your mother was pregnant with you over three dozen seers in the fae realms gave the same general prophecy about your path. And it referenced a much older prophecy about a child of power born when two lines were unknowingly joined and wolves would be his guard and home.”

Jarnik shuffled in place and his arms came up to cross his chest and then down to fidget against his legs. “You have to understand the backstory. The reason Gwynn was unable to take Claudia to his realm when her mother died at her birth was because travel between this realm and Faerie is nearly impossible for most. Gwynn and I and a few others have a somewhat easier time of it due to the job we share - or once shared - should share but can’t currently.”

Gwynn took over as Jarnik stumbled. “Once upon a time, several centuries ago, both Jarnik and I were leaders of the Wild Hunt in our respective area of the globe. I, in Wales and Scotland, parts of England and at times parts of Ireland. Jarvik, in Slovenia and sometimes ranging into upper Italy or north towards Poland and east into western Russia. There are others who had the task in other parts of the world. The problem began in the early to mid-1800s as humans track time. There were several part fae who - their children - it is complicated and has to do with several part fae who lived in the human realm trying to force the prophecy that culminated in you to occur. There were fae politics and enormous misunderstandings involved but they formed a new Wild Hunt in North America. But it was twisted and corrupted from its proper purpose.”

Jarnik sighed. “Those cheap knockoffs were assholes -  _ are _ assholes and the magic and rituals they used began to poison the paths between this realm and Faerie. Fae getting caught and corrupted by this poison, caused horrendous damage in both realms before they were able to be stopped. Our best researchers worked on the problem but it was insurmountable from our end. As long as the False Hunt was active and continuously poisoning the In-Between, the majority of our people were trapped. But for the few of us whose powers included power over the dead, the Hunt - when it was able to ride, or inter-dimensional travel. Gwynn and I are both in the former two categories. And the only thing our people could work out was that we needed to trigger the Child of Cleansing Power prophecy. But not in the way the pretenders had attempted.”

Gwynn shrugged. “Those of us who could return with more ease to this realm were encouraged to take mortal lovers and have children with them. There are more half, quarter, and eighth fae around then you might expect, Stiles. And it worked. Eventually, you were born. But, the consequences of the wait for your birth, the many decades, centuries that have passed, have been - severe and world-changing.”

Jarnik continued with a sigh. “The Wild Hunt had a purpose. And when we were unable to continue that purpose - a replacement arose to fill the void. A man was born and became a werewolf and he went bad, not feral, but simply evil. He was so far gone that they simply called him the Beast of Gevaudan. And his reign of terror was so horrible that his own sister rose to find a way to destroy him. After many hardships and much violence and far too many innocent deaths, she was able to trap him in a cage he could not easily break as its bars were laced with mountain ash. She killed her brother and burned his body. All that survived was his claws. But she had come to realize over the years she pursued her brother that the world was filled with non-human creatures and creatures that were sometimes human or seemed human but weren’t. And many of them were violent and humans were hurt by them. She and one of the men who helped her hunt her brother married and took the name of the metal the Beast’s death cage had been made of as their own. In English, it would be Silver. But in her native land, France, it was Argent.”

Gwynn sighed. “And thus her family took on a motto, a code, to hunt those who would hunt them. And her philosophy spread and more Hunting clans were created and the poison of the Wild Hunt poisoned even this originally noble ideal and we have results like Kate and Gerard.”

Stiles flailed around as he paced his half of the circle. “What exactly am I supposed to do? I can’t - I don’t even know -“

Gwynn reached a hand toward the chalk line separating them. “This is your destiny - to destroy the False Hunt. Even if your powers had not been forced out of dormancy with the Bite six years ago, they still would have activated at some point in time, possibly without you having training available. It is your Fate to face the Hunt and destroy it. And we have faith in you and your pack. You all carry the hopes of the fae and the future of the supernatural in this realm with you. The False Hunt will be drawn to you eventually. Will you allow them to do as they will? Destroy innocent creatures and force humans to vanish into the In-Between forever?”

Stiles shook his head. “No, of course I won’t but -“

Jarnik smiled softly. “Just believe, in yourself, in your pack, in the people you surround yourself with, in the love you hold for each other and this realm.”

The smoke barrier began to clear and the fire dimmed, the two fae fading, leaving only an echo in two voices, “Believe, Mieczysław Stilinski, believe.”

Stiles fell flat on his butt and then onto his back, contemplating his future and listening to the fading echo as he gazed up at the stars. “Believe.”

**Section Six (Season Finale): Do I Stay or Do I Go?**

Derek sat on one on the benches surrounding the memorial to his family. He supposed it was somewhat morbid of him, considering that this was the place the majority of his family and died, how often he had come here over the last month, the sense of peace and comfort he found while sitting in the shadow of the marble wolf pack. 

But he had never seen the devastation left behind by Kate Argent. He had memories of the house as it had been while he was growing up and that is the only way he could remember it. He had never seen the burned-out husk or smelled the ash and burned flesh as Laura had, as Cora had, as Uncle Peter had experienced firsthand. Derek found peace in this beautiful memorial garden and spent hours just sitting and thinking almost everyday.

Derek knew he had a big decision to make. Uncle Peter had made it clear that Derek was welcome to join his pack. But that would leave Laura totally alone as an Alpha with no betas at all. Not that she had been much of an alpha once he was old enough to move out. Once he had his GED and a job, she had almost forced him to get his own small apartment. And it was a good month when he saw her more than twice in the month once that had happened.

Derek had spent the last month thinking about his future, talking with members of his family, having conversations with members of Uncle Peter’s - of the Hale Pack. And it was the Hale Pack, regardless of who held the actual historically Hale spark. An alpha and a single beta did not a pack make.

Uncle Peter had made a flourishing pack here in Beacon Hills. Derek had wished several times over the last month that Laura had not come upon him on the road that night. He would have been found by Cora or someone, or he would have followed the tugs of the pack bonds inside him to the hospital like she had. He would have been here in the middle of a stable, vibrant pack, loved and cherished, surrounded by Pack bonds instead of struggling to not go omega with a single, impossibly thin bond, nearly alone in a strange city, far from the land he called home.

Stiles had often seemed to come upon him when he was at his most depressed, dwelling on what might have been. The mage would sit with him and chatter on, filling the silence with stories of the pack, or of movies, or books he had read, not expecting any replies from Derek beyond a listening silence. It helped. Stiles was annoying with his inability to stay still and be quiet but it was just what Derek needed when the depression and self-hatred were at their worst. 

Cora had sparred with him several times a week. And hadn’t her proficiency been a revelation. The Cora he remembered had been a little girl, one who loved the woods, but who was more interested in dolls and books than in fight practice. But now she was incredibly competent and put him on his ass nine times out of ten. She was going to apprentice to the Left Hand, Janet, when she graduated. 

The sparring soothed Derek’s nerves, the hits, the sharp pain, the bloody cuts feeling like penance, like absolution for his actions six years ago. For allowing Kate Argent to play him and use him. And Cora was always more brutal when Derek was indulging in self-pity.

Derek’s conversations with Jackson were interesting. He had a very definite view of the world and the pack. And hadn’t Jackson’s paternity been a shock. But learning that Uncle Peter had been used by an older woman when he was even younger than Derek had been was comforting. Derek didn’t tell his uncle that and he never would but he supposed there was something to schadenfreude, after all. Even if he was the only one who knew how he felt about it.

And the way Derek’s mother had handled the situation with Uncle Peter and Jackson’s birth so harshly, the taking of his memories, bothered Derek and made him doubt his mom. He wondered if she had survived if she would have banished him or worse. How would she have reacted to the knowledge of Derek’s unwitting relationship with a huntress? He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to know.

Derek had several talks with Noah Stilinski. The Sheriff of Beacon County was a great interrogator. They were three conversations in before Derek even realized how skillfully the older man and gotten him to open up about things like Laura, Paige, Kate, New York. And the Right Hand of the pack had given him a possible route to the future. Not something he could pursue if he returned to New York, he didn’t think his fake papers would stand up to the background check required. But to live under his own name, the name his parents had given him, a name and history, and go to school for criminal justice and then the police academy. That was an idea that called to Derek, to get justice for those that were hurt as he had been, as his family had been. Noah promised if he chose that route there would always be a place for him in the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department.

There were more reasons for Derek to want to stay than to return to the life he had lived for the last six years. But he still struggled with guilt because he didn’t want to abandon Laura. But Stiles had mentioned an idea in passing that Derek was going to give a chance. To give Laura a chance, a choice. It wouldn’t be an easy choice if she chose to change, but it would be healthier than how she lived now. And if she chose to remain as she was, well, Laura was her own person and her life was up to her. Her decisions and their ramifications on her were on Laura, not Derek. Not once he gave her the facts and the choice.

Derek took out his cell phone and dialed Laura. She should be out of work and finished her dinner by now. The phone rang, once, twice, three times. After the fourth ring, the voicemail chimed in and the message was heartbreaking to Derek.

“Rick, you’re the only one who still has this number. I left the phone behind. I saw the news about the Argent bitch going down in a firefight with the feds and cops, taking several hunters with her. Our family is avenged. And me - I’m gone. I’ve left the city and moved away. I left no trail, I’ve done it before. You’re on your own, you made your choices, six years ago  _ and _ now, since you haven’t come home. Goodbye, little brother. Good luck, little omega. You can keep the car.”

——

Derek walked into the pack house and down the hallway to Uncle Peter’s office. He knocked on the door, making sure to hit the area designed to be heard through the soundproofing.

The door clicked as it unlatched, Uncle Peter having released the latch with a button on his desk. Derek entered and began to take a seat at one of the chairs in front the desk but his uncle waved him off to the seating area instead.

Derek slumped down in the chair, his chin on his chest. Uncle Peter sat across from him and his eyes shined with sympathy. 

“She said no.”

Derek sighed and shrugged, his eyebrows lowering and twitching. “I don’t know what she would have said. I called and I took too long to figure stuff out. When I came out here and didn’t come back right away, she gave me up for lost, I think. Considered me dead to her, more or less.”

Peter rose and sat on the coffee table, laying a hand on Derek’s arm. “Disconnected?”

Derek shook his head. “No. It went to voicemail and there was a personalized message for me. I didn’t come back right away and then she heard on the news about Kate Argent’s bloody death by cop. She ran again. And this time it would be even easier for her to disappear. She’s alone, no teenager dragging her back, no need for worrying about social services and homeschooling. And no worries about the hunters who might be after her specifically. She can go just about anywhere. And get lost in a crowded city or just live in the wilderness. Or she could slip out of the country and head to South America and the jungles. Or to Africa and the wide-open spaces or even Europe, if she wanted to. I’ll never know if she would have decided to give up the alpha spark and come home to our actual home, not a lonely apartment, to our family, to the Hale Pack.”

Uncle Peter laid his hand on the name of Derek’s neck and squeezed lightly, nearly a massage. “Unless she comes here on her own someday. As long as her intentions are peaceful, she’d be welcome, Derek. She’s your sister, your alpha, but she’s my niece. I may not approve of her choices and her behavior, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love her.”

Derek gave a small sob. “She broke the pack bond. I didn't feel when she did it, probably because of the magic bubble over the county, and the fact that it was so thin and brittle already, but she called me ‘little omega’ in her message. I don’t have an Alpha.”

Uncle Peter put his clawed fingers under Derek’s chin and forced his head up to meet the older man’s eyes. “You have an Alpha if you want it, Derek. You have a place in my pack, our family’s Pack. Just accept me as your Alpha, Derek. I told you it was an option for you.”

Derek blinked and let out a breath he had been holding. “When I picked up the phone to call Laura, I had already decided to. No matter what her choice was. I made my choice, the best way for me. And she made hers. Peter Hale I accept you as my Alpha.”

Derek raised his chin from Peter’s hold and fully bared his neck. From the corner of his eye, Derek could see his uncle’s wide smile. The alpha wolfed out and lowered his jaw over Derek’s vulnerable neck. If Uncle Peter had been playing him and was bitter about Derek leaving Beacon Hills, about him and Kate, he could take his revenge and Derek would be dead before he could ask why. But Derek’s pulse wasn’t even racing, he was calm, happy. He knew uncle loved him and forgave him. The Alpha clamped his jaw around Derek’s throat and bit down, hard enough to draw blood but not deep enough to cause true injury.

Alpha Hale pulled back and smiled, his teeth and lips slightly bloody. Derek placed a hand over the bite marks and returned the grin. 

“Welcome to the Hale Pack, Derek. Welcome home, nephew.” Uncle Peter pulled Derek into a tight embrace and Derek buried his nose in his alpha’s shoulder, his scent pleased and content.

**Author's Note:**

> I do have a few tentative plans for a further sequel in this series. But it isn't high on my priority list. Don't bug me and ask or beg for when the next part will be written because it just makes me upset and less likely to want to tackle it.


End file.
